Amour
by Zapenstap
Summary: CONCLUDED! A love affair, especially a secret one, is not something either Heero or Relena looked for, but long suppressed feelings overwhelm rational objections. Meanwhile a threat is issued against Heero, and potentially the world
1. Intoxication

Author's Notes: I thought up this story while writing Desires of the Heart and it follows a similar premise but is NOT the same story. The characterization is a little different and it won't go in the same trajectory. Also, this is a lemon, meaning it contains graphic sexual content, though it has been edited for FF. See Blissful Ignorance for the full version. If I continue this story, there will be more lemons, possibly an arc of lemons (with a plot). Also, in this chapter and possible chapters to come, readers might notice a slight change in my style in that I'm adding more distance between my voice and the characters to allow for narration so I can cover time more quickly. If I continue this fic, the story will cover a lot of time, possibly years between chapters….haven't decided yet. And finally, I will warn readers that in this fic I switch POVs in a way that I don't usually do in my writing. I think the way I do it is clear and make sense, but please let me know if this is not the case.

Thank you and please enjoy!

Amour

Chapter 1

By Zapenstap

It wasn't about love.

It began at a birthday party Relena had thrown when she turned twenty-four, a party where the guests were all close friends and trusted coworkers, where the champagne flowed freely, and everyone laughed, drank, and let their cares and responsibilities slide away. Relena had developed a strong liking for champagne, and she drank a lot of it that night, not in the quantities it would take to make her ill, but enough so that she forgot herself, danced, laughed, greeted her guests… and flirted with Heero.

Their flirtation wasn't entirely new. Years ago Heero and Relena had tried to have a relationship, during a time when Relena's goals had been directed toward a stable lifestyle befitting her political career—a lifestyle which included a built-in future of marriage, children, a two-story home and a predictable schedule—during a time when Heero's stability consisted of a goal to stay in the same place for a full six months, long enough to acquire a couch, stock a few groceries in at least one of his cupboards, and establish a pretense at having a girlfriend.

Their communication also lacked, to the point that they each grew accustomed to dating an idea more than a person, their understanding of one another developing from assumption and a trajectory of thought rather than conversation. Of course Relena had been busy too, and Heero was unaccustomed to the telephone, all of which resulted in a misunderstanding of the other's intentions and sincerity, and which eventually drove them down the separate, but more familiar paths of solidarity, Relena in her determined social and political ambitions and Heero in his self-contained isolationism.

Whether Heero had ever loved Relena was never the point. They had been lonely and needed someone who understood. Certainly Relena had loved Heero, had maintained a girlish crush on him for years before she even really knew him, but her love from him had been of a superficial sort, stirred more by her desire to emulate him and desperation for companionship than honest feelings. Heero claimed to have never loved Relena, and the feelings he did have were murky at best. When they broke up, it was because they were hurting each other, Relena's expectations being too high and Heero's comfort level with those expectations too frail.

For quite a long time, out of heartbreak and hurt, they didn't speak, and during that long sabbatical, Relena's intense emotional dependency on Heero dissipated, her once great love for Heero Yuy settling into a caring sort of affection that she recalled occasionally in the late twilight of a summer evening as a memory, but which was no longer something that occupied her heart or mind. That she retained a certain fondness for Heero at all was partially reminiscent of the history they had together and partly a necessity in reaction to his needs, a need for space and privacy and mobility, freedom that couldn't be maintained when beholden to anyone else, needs that were tragic and yet endearing in their lonesomeness. Relena's connection and understanding of Heero and Heero's continually awareness of it was such that forgetting each other did not seem possible, and over time it became a silly ceremony to pretend the other did not exist.

It was Relena who made the first move toward friendship, initiating forgiveness and open acknowledgement of her understanding of Heero's situation by inviting the former gundam pilot to a social function that involved many people they both knew from the past, a few other former gundam pilots among them. That night Heero and Relena shared space without bitterness, though their interactions were brief and mostly polite. Heero had reacted to Relena's invitation with passivity, and spent most of his time watching other people from the walls and corners; yet he seemed grateful for the opportunity to mingle in social crowds for brief chunks of time, even if his interaction was primarily achieved through observation. He had little ability or practice in making social connections on his own.

Opportunities for such meetings were repeated with more frequency as Relena's political career gained momentum. She threw a lot of parties for social reasons, and grew increasingly charismatic with age, not in a social butterfly sense, but as someone engaging, personable, and more light-hearted and easy-going than she had been in her youth, at least in the comfort of her own home, and especially among close friends or coworkers. When she was working, at the office or on a political tour, she was known to be all business and diplomatic professionalism, but on her own time, or when reflecting on the difficulty of her work, she had relaxed significantly, allowing—as she learned she must when the grand visions of her youth began to unravel in the face of age and reality—to just let some things be, and even became somewhat witty and facetiously charming as she tackled increasingly difficult projects. Heero hardly changed at all, save to grow taller, darker and more mysterious, though he managed to be less distant and standoffish in pleasant company and even behaved graciously around old acquaintances.

Of course they couldn't help being attracted to each other. Heero had always possessed a dangerous, forbidden sort of beauty that turned the heads of young girls and even caused older women to glance with interest and consider, especially when his history as a war hero and infamous gundam pilot became known. Relena's girlhood awkwardness had evolved into elegance with the passing of the years, and in her mid and early twenties her face and figure were heralded alongside the advancements of her career as the epitome of the modern woman. Neither Heero nor Relena cared much for any of that. Their mutual attraction was more than physical; it was a chemistry that sprung from a deeper and more elusive well, a connection they couldn't quite explain and never tried to. The few times they had slept together as a couple had been memorable, if awkward and inexperienced, filled with emotional doubt and uncertainty, but physically satisfying for both of them.

However, a relationship such as Relena desired at the time couldn't last on chemistry alone. Heero had been very clear about the condition of his heart, though he had been sorry to break hers. Though he cared for Relena deeply, he didn't understand how to love her or anyone. He could never be sure of staying anywhere for long, and he knew that eventually she wanted a husband and home. He didn't have a model for it himself, having grown up without parents or even loving guardians, and though he had tried to masquerade the role of a potential mate, the very concept bewildered him. When they eventually succumbed to the inevitable and declared the relationship over, Relena was left destitute and heartbroken, for she had built all of her dreams on the possibility of a happily ever after with Heero Yuy.

By her twenty-fourth birthday, Relena was done with the concept of happily ever after. A husband and a home were a distant idea she hardly had time for herself in her busy schedule and unceasing river of commitments, and the idea of a happily ever after seemed a laughable concept stacked up against the human horrors she encountered, fought and sometimes was forced to yield to daily in her political life. She still wanted it someday, when things slowed down if they ever did, when she had time to date again and before she was too old to have children, but at the moment and for the foreseeable future, it was an impossible ambition.

Her birthday party was a cocktail party and everyone was supposed to have come dressed up, but Heero arrived dressed in dark slacks, a T-shirt, and a black coat. Relena wore a yellow dress cut off halfway up her thighs with a slit in the skirt up one leg and white silk layers underneath. The bodice and hem were strewn with golden beads that caught the light as she chatted and danced in pretty heeled shoes, surrounded by well-wishers handing her an endless stream of crystal champagne glasses. Heero spent the most of the evening sitting on a stool near the private bar, occasionally talking to mutual acquaintances, but mostly content to sit alone and observe everyone else until his hawk-like eyes made people nervous enough that they excused themselves from conversation to flee his presence.

At half past eleven, a few hours into the party and with the festivities still on the climb, Relena caught Heero watching her dance. His staring wasn't predatory, and possibly not even terribly interested in anything she did, but Heero's eyes had a way of merely noticing things that made it seem as if attention were fixated. When a coworker leaned into Relena's ear to inform that a man seated at the bar was staring at her, Relena could only laugh. She had greeted Heero when he arrived, but it wasn't until she turned to look over her shoulder and saw his eyes focused on her that she decided to join him at the bar for conversation. Leaving the dance floor with her latest drink half-empty in hand, she strode toward the bar and perched herself on a stool, swinging her bare legs up onto the rungs of the stool where Heero was sitting and smiling at him.

He turned to her silently, appraising her appearance wordlessly and making no other commentary.

"You were watching me dance?" she asked.

"You looked like you were having fun," he replied in his usual, conservative tones. There was nothing in his face to indicate that he had enjoyed watching, or even that her company was wanted now, but she sensed contentment from him by his posture. He seemed relaxed, the sharp attention that was usually present in his features softening slightly, though he didn't smile at her.

She smiled at him though, champagne glass in hand and wisps of hair flying about her face where they had come undone on the dance floor. Now that she was sitting down, the alcohol in her blood seemed to be singing, a tingling feeling running up and down her arms and making her feel slightly dizzy in the head. She blinked her eyes and looked curiously around the room, surprised at how quickly everything seemed to slide when a moment before it had all be perfectly stable. Letting out a small laugh at the absurdity, she leaned her forehead against Heero's shoulder.

"Thank you or coming," she said.

He smelled good, a slight spray of cologne drifting into her nose from under the fabric of his shirt. As was an unfortunate effect of alcohol, she immediately began to think about Heero as a man in a place convenient to a sudden desire that sprang out of nowhere to occupy her thoughts. It wasn't a serious reflection, but because it had been months since she had had time to date and longer since she had had a boyfriend, she allowed the thoughts to progress as a curiosity, exploring a part of herself that she was usually forced to suppress in the interest of time, responsibility and availability of resources. It had been a long time since she had felt a man's lips on her skin or a man's body against hers, and it was something she desired even if she didn't have time to develop or maintain that kind of relationship and was considered too generally proper to engage in it casually.

So she allowed herself to lean her head against Heero's shoulder and just remember.

He tolerated it for maybe ten seconds, and then tapped her gently on the cheek until she raised her head to look into the enigmatic brilliance of his dark blue eyes.

"Heero," she said, her head spinning now and her body feeling as if a small fire had been lit somewhere to make her blood simmer. She reached out to touch his cheek, gracing her fingers over his skin and trailing down to touch his neck. "Would you like to stay over tonight?"

He jerked his head back and there was the barest hint of a warning growl in his voice as he pulled away. "Relena..." She blinked at him through the hazy curtain that seemed to hang between the two sides of her brain, wondering what she had said to receive such a response. Perhaps he had no interest in her like that anymore, but even if that was true, his reaction seemed stronger than necessary. She deliberated for a moment, and gradually felt she understood; he must have thought she was asking for more than she meant, as if she hadn't learned from their first experience that asking for more than Heero could give would only hurt them both. She spoke slowly, carefully choosing her words.

"Heero, I'm not asking for a relationship. I'm not in love with you anymore. It's just that it's been awhile. I guess I'm feeling like I want someone to stay over."

Giving her a reproving look, he took the glass from her hand and set it on the counter of the bar. "That's because you're drunk."

It seemed answer enough, and because she was indeed drunk, she couldn't be sure he wasn't mistaken. She sighed, chasing away her transitory lust like so many elusive butterflies and glanced at Heero with a regretful, but affable smile. A moment later, Duo Maxwell and Trowa Barton sauntered over from the where they had been lounging outside on the patio and started talking to Heero about the newest model of some security system or another. They greeted Relena with a "happy birthday" and offered her an opportunity to enter the conversation, but she took her leave of the group, hopping off the stool and retreating back to the dance floor to leave the boys to discuss among themselves such topics that failed to interest her.

As she left, Duo laughed.

"She's cute when she's drinking," he said to Heero.

Heero grunted noncommittally and asked Trowa about the newest advancements in aerospace technology, particularly in regard to the latest testing equipment in motion sensors. He considered what Relena had said before the others arrived, wondering what she meant by it and what had made her ask something like that, especially to him, but his thoughts were swept away by Trowa's subtle grilling. Heero had to evade questions about where he had been lately and what he had been up to, partly out of secrecy for the working he was doing and would be committed to doing his whole life, and partly out of habit. It wasn't that he had anything to hide from Trowa, but Heero regularly avoided talking about what he did, and really avoided talking about himself in general, or even thinking much about himself. The way he spent his time and met his needs—physical and emotional--were a mystery to everyone. He preferred it that way.

Duo fetched drinks at midnight, ashamed—as he put it—that it was already so late and Heero had had only one glass of champagne, but probably more hopeful of jarring something loose from Heero's secret life. Heero wasn't worried about leaking information he shouldn't. The reason he hadn't had much to drink was because he didn't particularly like drinking. He didn't have any moral, medical, social or even personal opposition to it as an activity, but he didn't like being drunk. Though he always knew his limits and could measure fairly accurately how much alcohol would put him in what state of mind, he was still as susceptible as the next person to losing focus and the ability to reason. Alcohol also affected Heero emotionally, and in the opposite direction, heightening the impact of his feelings on his psychology and dramatizing his sense of isolation and loneliness in social groups. Drinking made Heero feel depressed.

Nevertheless, when Duo provided drinks, he drank. They started by taking shots, first all together and then in a round, chasing them with water and telling a secret when they had finished. When Heero finished his first two shots, Duo wanted to know if Heero still had feelings for Relena, to which Heero replied with some annoyance that he didn't and never had. He explained for what must have been the fifteenth million time that he cared for Relena but had no interest in a relationship with her, for her benefit as well as his own. Duo's response was disappointment at having wasted Heero's secret on something he had already been told openly, to which Trowa laughed and jibed him.

A drinking game followed, something Duo either made up on the spot or had learned elsewhere. It involved watching people on the dance floor, singling someone out and trying to guess what they would do. If they guessed incorrectly, they had to drink, and the drinks Duo provided were not much less potent than the shots they had started with. It was a stupid game, as most drinking games were stupid, but they played anyway, at first for something to do and later because the more they drank the more interesting and difficult the game became.

By one o-clock Heero was drunk and irritated about it. He could speak without slurring and walk without swaying or tripping, but it took concentration, and his thoughts seemed to slide out of grasp like slippery vines when he tried to hold on to them. His body felt as if were full of pins and he had the intense and bizarre desire to want to be and remain with people, talking or touching or something more.

He found himself watching Relena again, half abstractly but also unable to shake off what she had said, especially after Trowa and Duo brought his attention to her by guessing something she would do. Duo had to drink when he guessed incorrectly that Relena would get sick or fall after spinning around the dance floor with a man Heero hadn't know the name of, but who irritated him for being less than Relena deserved, even in a dancing partner. Trowa guessed that Relena would soon lose her shoes, which she did, kicking them off when they apparently became too cumbersome or painful to take care of. In bare feet, she twirled on the dance floor, this time without a partner, and not long after that Trowa wandered away and got lost and Hilde came by to haul a sleepy, blurry-eyed Duo home in a taxi, leaving Heero alone at the bar with an empty glass in his hand and only the dance floor to look at.

He watched until Relena stopped dancing, her hair having come undone, falling in a tangled mess of a loose bobby pins and golden curls around her shoulders. She left the floor to sit on the couch that was set against the wall across the room to try to work out the tangles, leaving the pins on the glass surface of a little table by the arm rest. When the last pin came free and her hair hung curly and mussed around her shoulders, she swung her bare legs up on the cushions and lay with her head on the armrest, not sleeping, but watching the party wind down with a smile on her face.

Heero felt his blood stir and looked away uncomfortably, not because he was unused to finding Relena attractive, but because he hadn't prepared himself to deal with the sensation while drunk in her house and exposed so provocatively to the long length of her bare legs stretched out on the sofa. He tried to ignore the urgent demands on his sexual instinct, but a part of him wanted to try her out again, to see if she was riper now that she was older, and to see if he was better at pleasing her now that he was more experienced. It was this primal, almost animalistic thought that he was able to dismiss simply by looking away, but what remained to haunt him was the residue of loneliness and the need for the touch of another human being that the alcohol in his blood multiplied tenfold.

He didn't think it could do any harm to talk to her.

Before he knew it, he had set his glass down on the counter and was approaching the couch without a conception in the world of what he wanted to say.

She lifted her head and dragged her knees in to make room for him, tangled golden-brown hair spilling down her shoulders and sticking to the perspiration on her cheeks and neck when she turned a sleepy, heavy-lidded gaze on him. Her makeup was smudged under her eyes by this time, and the lipstick long gone, as if she had fallen asleep forgetting to wash her face.

"Hey," he said, and she smiled as he sat down beside her.

She sat up and shifted so that that she could lean against his arm, her breasts rising a falling as she heaved a sigh. "I've lost my shoes," she said ruefully, extending one of her knees and pointing her toes.

"They're under the table," he replied. She had pretty toes, and his eyes climbed up from her feet to shins to her knees and up to her thighs where the edge of her dress cut off his view. The spinning in his brain was not receding, and the more he looked at her skin, the more he wanted to touch it. He felt his own flesh heating, his heart beating too strongly to account for the alcohol alone.

Relena snuggled against him, burying her face into his shoulder and he tensed. Her proximity was making it difficult for him to focus on anything except the scent of her skin and softness of her body. He shifted a little, but when he moved, she moved with him, half falling over his lap. His eyes tripped from the top of her head to the bodice of her dress to where her hand supported her weight on his upper thigh.

He meant to say her name, this time with a stronger warning than before, but his thoughts were sluggish and his physical reactions quickened. He struggled to retain some semblance of rational thought, wondering just how many shots Duo had put in his drinks and if they had all hit him yet, when Relena struggled to raise her body enough to look him in the face. He found himself lost in her eyes, seeing a lust there that reflected his own, was guarded and wary like his own, and was winning like his own. He returned her look honestly, making no suggestion, but not trying to mask one either. She lowered her lashes, her fingers splaying over his leg as she braced against him to push herself up, and when she looked at him again there was something in her expression that quickened the stirring in his blood to a torrent.

Forgetting himself, he touched her hand, caressing her fingers. She smelled lightly of flowers and spring breezes, and up close her skin glistened with a light perspiration from dancing under hot yellow lights. He fingered her hair, curling it about his knuckles, and appraised her body without shame or disguise, trying to remember the shape of her curves and the feel of her frame in his arms. It had been awhile for him too, and the memories were such that once the floodgate was opened, he found it difficult to shut. Leaning forward, he brought his head close to her hair and grazed his lips lightly along her neck.

She shuddered, breathing deeply and longingly in way that made him feel hypersensitive all over his body. Anticipation welled up like a river, and he reached for her arm to pull her closer to him.

"Too public," she whispered, turning her head slightly, twisting out of his reach and looking around to see if anyone had noticed. If they had, they weren't watching or didn't care, and with her body trembling so close to his arm, he didn't either. "Wait a moment and then follow me," she said, standing up from the couch and striding away quicker than he could straighten in his dizzied state. Slowly, he rose to his feet, watching as she conversed briefly with a woman he didn't know and then turned down a dark and narrow hall, vanishing from his sight.

He waited a moment and then followed, taking a slightly different route, but passing close enough to the woman Relena had been conversing with to hear her explain to another woman that Relena felt groggy and had gone to bed, and that she had been left in charge to make sure everyone else got home safely. He didn't pause to hear the other woman's reaction, but slipped into the dark hallway where Relena had gone, treading swiftly down the corridor in as straight a line as he could manage.

Relena waited for him at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall with her hands tucked behind the small of her back. He sped up as soon as she caught sight of him, closing the distance swiftly and trapping her against the wall with his body before she could move or utter a sound. His hands took hold of her wrists, keeping them in place behind her back as his lips sought her mouth, kissing her fully and urgently, openmouthed but not penetrating passed her lips with his tongue. Instead he released her hands and dropped his mouth to her throat, grabbing her about the waist and running his hands over her body. Her hand came up to his shoulder and neck as soon as he released them, and he felt her fingers tangle in his hair and a gasp release from her lungs as he dropped lower to her breasts.

Swallowing, she struggled in his grip until he lightened his hold and allowed her to slip out under her arm long enough to push open a door at the end of the hallway and lead him into a room that had to be hers. The décor was of elegant Victorian style with dark furniture, white tablecloths on the tables and lace curtains. The curtains covered windows that spread almost across the whole wall on the far side of the room, and the moonlight that streamed through the curtains bathed the darkness in the silvery blue glow of night. Heero wasn't interested in any of the details of the room except the bed, which was large enough, but with a comforter too white and fluffy for his purpose.

Turning his attention back to Relena, he immediately helped her out of her dress, finding the zipper tucked under the material and kissing the skin on her back as he pulled it down until the dress slipped off. Relena removed her undergarments without his help while he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping his clothes on the floor where he stood and moving to the bed to throw the comforter down around the posters on the edge. Stripping down to nakedness, he caught Relena's wrist as she came toward him, pulling her nude form into his arms and caressing her skin with his hands, touching her everywhere to let her know he wanted her, and then turning her back toward the bed and laying her down gently on the sheet-covered mattress.

Their touch of one another was familiar, their fingers remembering the other's body and experience quickly filling in the gaps of the time they had spent apart. Their lovemaking was ardent and demanding, the crescendo of their pleasure steady and the climax mutually satisfying. When it was over, they spent a little time recovering their breath and then settled down to enjoy the euphoria, letting sleep wash away the remains of alcohol.

Heero awoke in the morning to the sound of birds outside the window, and with less of a headache than he had feared. His body still tingled with a pleasant sense of physical fulfillment, but as memory rushed back in with the light of morning, he sat bolt-right up in bed, turning to stare at Relena sleeping beside him with a pounding heart in his chest and whirling in his mind. He had promised himself he would never hurt her again.

"Relena," he said, and touched her shoulder, shaking her gently.

She opened her eyes groggily, hair a mess around her head and wincing at a headache that was seemingly worse than his was. She blinked her eyes in the sunshine that poured through the curtains and brightened the room with yellow-white light and turned to look at him. To his surprise, but not relief, she smiled; a small smile that showed she was pleased, and not at all hurt.

"Good morning," she said. "I'm twenty-four."

"Relena," he said, this time in an apprehensive way.

She turned so that she was propped on one elbow, the sheet from the bed tucked around her body and hiding most of the creamy smoothness of her skin. "I'm surprised you stayed," she said quietly. "Did you just wake up?" She looked at the clock hanging on her wall above the vanity and took a deep breath. "God, I'm exhausted. I think I will sleep most of the day away if I can get away for it. What about you? Do you want to sleep in and stay for breakfast or do you need to go?"

"I need to go," he said quickly, not concerned or interested in breakfast. "Relena, what's happened?" It wasn't that he didn't remember. Their sexual encounter was as beautifully clear in his mind as anything was that night, but what had he been thinking to allow himself back into her life this way? And more importantly, what did she think of it? And what did they do now? He couldn't stay. He had no intention of staying. How could he have let his needs overrun his sense so easily? Had he wanted it that much?

Relena's face was a study, carefully blank as she considered him in his panic. When she spoke it was with the evenness of simple truth. "Heero, I know I can't keep you so please don't think that that's what I expect. I wasn't so drunk last night that I don't remember what I said. I really am not in love with you anymore. To be honest, I don't have time for a boyfriend these days anyway, and even if I did have the time I wouldn't make the mistake of thinking you would have a miraculous change of heart just because we slept together." She smiled at his shock and relief, mirth playing at the corner of her lips. "I really enjoyed it, by the way," she added. "I needed that, really. It's been a long time, and I'm just happy that you were willing. I care a lot about you, and I know you care about me. I'm not asking for more than that."

"So you're okay with this?" he confirmed hesitantly.

She nodded. "No strings attached."

"Are we protected?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah. As long as you don't have anything."

"I don't," he confirmed, and began searching the floor for his clothes. "You can go back to sleep. I can find my own way out."

Relena smiled and pulled the comforter back up over her shoulders before snuggling into the bed.

Heero got out of bed and dressed quietly, unconcerned for the wrinkles in his own clothes, but taking a moment to hang up Relena's dress in her closet. When he was finished and ready to go he paused at the door, looking at the woman asleep on the bed, her cheek resting against her hand and her chest rising and falling under the blanket. He then put his hand on the door frame and opened the door.

"Thank you, Heero," Relena murmured from the bed, and he smiled as he walked out.

"Happy Birthday, Relena."

To Be Continued?

I have an idea of how this story might progress in a kind of lemon-y arc with a plot, but we'll see how it goes. I don't know how often I'll be able to update because I have so many things going on, but I like my idea for the story! Anyway, let me know what you think. It's been awhile since I've written a full lemon!


	2. Midnight

Chapter 2 of the Lemon Arc. Chapters on FF have been edited for sexual content. For the full version, please redirect to Blissful Ignorance or Media Miner. Please review!

Amour

Chapter 2

By Zapenstap

After a spending a night together under the influence of alcohol, Relena didn't see or hear of Heero for weeks, but she thought about him more in those days than she had in a year or longer.

Her thoughts were mostly bemused, remembering the tenacity with which her quiet, lurking partner accepted her invitation and took her to bed without preamble or regret. Heero's lovemaking had satiated an unfulfilled physical need Relena had been carrying for months, and stripped of all her emotional expectations, the experience had even been surprisingly fun, though her memories of the finer details were fuzzy. Still, she wondered why he had pursued it when in the past he had always been so elusive in making any kind of contact with her. She supposed it was because after time, and after experiencing the reality of failed dreams and failed relationships not exclusive to their own, they had both become adults, able to recognize what they needed as well as what they could expect without inextricably linking the two. It was, after all, mostly a physical need they had both sought to fulfill, and a physical satisfaction they had both received.

All in all, she accepted the events of the evening as an agreeable, if somewhat guilty deviation from her usual routine, and when it was over returned to her routine without looking back.

For Heero, the experience was a bit more bewitching. His lack of social connections made those he had glow like beacons in a night, and though he didn't love Relena, he did have a connection with her, and the pleasure he found in sharing her bed and being allowed to leave it without remorse or apology was more than a physical satisfaction. After his first confused and half-hearted relationship with Relena ended years ago, Heero had met some of his physical needs with other partners now and then, but his need for secrecy and anonymity in relation to his work and the habit of his past drove out any hope of an emotional connection, and he gradually found the physical act of sex by itself unfulfilling enough that he had for quite a long time ceased engaging in it.

What he had shared with Relena the night of her birthday was unplanned and unprecedented, but though it was not an act of love, it had satisfied something in him that none of his other encounters had, something that thirsted for more satisfaction. Relena knew him, and cared for him, and that combined with the chemistry of their physical connection and her willingness to leave ideas of forever out of the equation was exactly what Heero desired. He didn't want to be tied down, and he didn't want to distract Relena from her important work, but sharing something together that they both wanted and needed without expecting more was not an unpleasant idea. After her birthday, he had had to leave town for a few weeks to work on an assignment he had tracked through the ESUN Department of Global Defense, but as time went by he found himself wondering if perhaps—on his return—he wouldn't be able to persuade Relena to repeat the experience again, this time sober and with an agenda to please her enough that she might consider more incidents of the same kind in the future.

Of course, it depended entirely on her honesty that she did not desire to keep him or expect him to offer her any emotional support other than respect and care for her person. Above all he didn't want to hurt her, and considered his presence in her life transitory, momentarily convenient and supportive of her work, but secondary to her true wishes. If she was at all disagreeable to the idea, or if someone else came along who could fulfill her ultimate desire for a family and a future, Heero would take his leave without regrets.

There was no prospect of such a person in Relena's life at the moment. She was too busy with her career to give the men who worked in her office or those she met other places more than a passing glance. During the mornings she sat for long hours in an endless cycle of meetings, and in the afternoons strode up and down the hallways of businesses, law firms, public buildings, manufacturing plants and universities in a pantsuit or in skirt and heels with a clipboard in her hand and sometimes a tech set connecting her to additional conversations. More often than not she was the hub of whatever changes were taking place where her presence was solicited, and sometimes she wished to trade her clipboard in for a stick when her pen was not enough to motivate what needed to be done. In the evenings she alternated between late nights at the office and a parade of political gatherings, galas, conventions and soirées that were so important to maintaining connections and keeping on the crest of innovation and public approval. She regularly slept five hours a night or less, with little or no time for naps, and her days off were scattered wherever she could fit them in (she was lucky to get two or three a month). It was a back-breaking pace she hoped to keep up until several important projects were finally launched in the summer, or next year, and then, someday, think about establishing a personal life.

It was an early afternoon on a Tuesday, just before a lunch she wouldn't have time to eat, that Relena found herself finally finishing up in a white-walled room with a board of top executives who had only slowly come around to accept and discuss implementation of the legal obligations required of them by the government. It was a relief to the numb feeling in her thighs when everyone rose with polite handshakes and smiles, and Relena was at last shown out into the hall and directed in the direction of the ladies room.

The bathroom was a private place of solace in a building filled primarily with middle-aged men, and she just stood for a moment in front of the counters and mirror assessing her stress level, splashing cool water on her neck under her hair and reminding herself that she was at least halfway through the day. After she had adjusted her knee-length scarlet skirt and scrubbed a small coffee stain from the lace ruffle of her white blouse, she stepped into the hallway with the intention of heading directly to the lobby where her driver would be waiting to take her back to the office and the mountain of other things she had yet to do. With her mind completely absorbed in the business of her work, it caught her by surprise to see Heero standing at the end of the corridor.

At first she was startled, and had difficulty not showing it, especially considering the circumstances when she had last seen him. Even now she couldn't help noticing that he was well-built, lean but muscled in a way that tickled her fancy even when his body was hidden by dark slacks and a white, button-down shirt. She noticed his apparel in particular because of the handle of a gun that peeped out of the inside of his jacket as he leaned back against a railing lining one side of the hall and spread his arms to either side for balance.

His expression was a mystery, particularly his eyes, but he seemed to like the dark cheery red color of her skirt by the way his attention lingered there.

"It's a good color on you," he said when he noticed her evaluation of his stare.

They met each other's eyes and Relena experienced a sudden rush of memory, a vision of Heero's eyes close to her face, sweat on his brow, watching her expression as they... She blushed a little, clearing her throat and wondering if Heero could see the heat in her cheeks. To divert his attention as well as her own, she glanced at his gun.

"Did you just get back from a mission?" she asked.

"Yeah." The blankness of his tone and the single-mindedness of his attention were infuriating. He didn't avert his eyes from her face and didn't seem at all surprised by the candor of her question.

She didn't bother to ask him what he had been doing. She knew he wouldn't tell her and asking would only spoil the trust they had established after the events of the other night. It was ironic in some ways: Heero guarded his privacy closer than his own life; Relena's private life was the subject of public inquiry, and yet when they sought the society of the other, they managed a respectful balance. Whether during a platonic encounter in the open hallway of a corporate building or a sexual exploration of one another's bodies in Relena's bedroom, they knew each other's boundaries and how to protect the other's space.

They both subsided into silence, Heero watching Relena with his thoughts veiled behind a wall of mystery and Relena trying to hide her thoughts by looking away.

"Have you been thinking at all about the other night?" Heero asked suddenly.

She blinked and turned her attention back on his face. She was startled that he would bring it up, but of course there was little else that could possibly bring him here before her in this way. He had to have come specifically to see her.

"Yes," she replied with caution. "Is there anything the matter?"

"Do you have any regrets?"

Again it seemed strange. She had been sure that she had been perfectly clear about what Heero meant and did not mean to her when he left her that morning, and nothing had changed since then. Was it possible that _he_ was having regrets?

"No," she said. "Do you?"

He hesitated, looking at her with eyes that seemed to prick her skin with a glance.

"I want to come over again," he said. "Tonight if you're not busy, but only if you have no regrets or reservations."

She was shocked into speechlessness. For several moments she just stared at him, never having considered that he would ask something like that just because she had initiated it the first time. She really hadn't thought that it would be more than a one time thing, not in the way she thought she knew Heero. Still, it had been worth it once. "If you want to," she began hesitantly.

Heero pressed his advantage, stepping away from the wall and covering the distance between them in one single stride. She started a little, flustered by his proximity, and then became frozen when his fingers gently encircled her wrist. He positioned himself so that he framed her body from the side, speaking directly into her ear in a normal, but somewhat pressing tone of voice. "It was pleasant. I know you're not seeing anyone right now and you know I won't talk about it and make a mess of things." Her eyes widened, but she understood him: sometimes he needed this, they both did, and they could trust each other to be discrete. "It's different with you, Relena. It was good. If you want, I think it can be better."

The suggestion was so bluntly proposed that she felt her breath hitch in her throat, a chill spreading through her body and shaking her muscles loose. "I'll be working late," she said.

He leaned forward, his lips close enough to her ear that the anticipation clenched something in her middle. "I can come over late."

She closed her eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of Heero's body beside hers, in the tantalizing sensation of his breath near her ear. ""Okay," she said faintly. "What time?"

"Late."

Heero withdrew from her side and before she knew it he was walking away down the corridor with his back straight and his arms loose at his sides. He didn't look back.

By the time a stunned and bewildered Relena returned to the office, her thoughts were forced to focus elsewhere. Despite her obvious interest in a rendezvous with Heero Yuy, she didn't have time to spare for thinking about it. As she had feared, the work to be done was monstrous and she was too busy talking, walking, planning, and making polite but firm demands to allow herself the chance to think about what would happen later or how she had even maneuvered herself into such a situation. She made three trips to three different locations off site, and didn't return until passed dinnertime to the office to arrange her paperwork, write her daily log and prepare for the presentation she was to give the next day.

It wasn't until almost ten o'clock that she finally headed home, tired and stiff, and only in the backseat of her limo did she finally allow herself to think about Heero and anticipate an evening with him in her bed. The first thing she did when she walked in her front door was check in with her live-in house staff about the proceeding for the day and her prospects for tomorrow. The Darilan manor house was never unoccupied. In addition to her driver she had housekeepers, a book clerk, a live-in cook, and security guards, all of whom were dear to her. After smiles and words of appreciation, she announced that she was going to bed. She didn't tell anyone, not even her security guards, that Heero was expected. She didn't think they would care, even for the purpose for which he was expected, but for the time being she preferred to keep it private, and she didn't think her two-man door and grounds security would be an obstacle for Heero Yuy.

Once in her bedroom she kicked off her shoes and checked her face in the mirror before flipping off the lights and turning down the bed, amazed at how alive and invigorated she felt even after such a long day. All of her nerves tingled with the anticipation of being with Heero again as she had been on her birthday, and the more she thought about it the more absorbed she became in a fantasy that grew bolder and more delicious by the minute. The last time she had been drinking and her memories of things were splotchy in places. This time she meant to have a memory that would last.

It was almost eleven when she heard a tiny ping on her windowpane, the soft sound of a pebble hitting the outside of the glass.

Crossing the room, she pulled aside the curtains, pushed open one of the large, outward swinging windows, and leaned her head over the sill to look down at the lawn.

"Isn't that a little boyish?" she called down with a smile.

Heero stood twenty feet below, looking straight up at her from the ground, standing in the shadows with his foot next to the brick wall that rose up to her room, a wall that was covered in rose vines. In the darkness, the only part of him she could make out clearly was his eyes flashing dark blue and dangerous in the night.

Relena leaned further out the window, her hair trailing past her face as she smiled. "There's a front door out by the street and a back down around the other side of the house. Do you want me to come let you in?"

"No," he said, just barely loud enough so that she could hear him. "I don't want anyone to know I was here."

She blinked.

His gaze traveled up the wall leading to her window, a story above the ground, noting the wooden fencing and roses covering the brick and the painted pipe ran that ran up along one side the window. Relena eyes widened anyway when she caught drift of his intention. "I'm coming up," he said.

Before she could call out to stop him he had leaped onto the latticework and began to scale her wall as easily as if he were climbing the stairs. She stepped backward hastily, making room for him as his hands caught onto the window ledge and his muscles strained to pull his body high enough to where he could swing one leg over the window sill. Within a minute, he was inside the room, falling lightly to the ground and turning to shut the windows behind him. He opened the curtains, and moonlight poured in from the evening the sky into her room, casting silvery puddles on her floor and across her bed.

Relena couldn't breathe. Heero was beautiful in the silver-blue light of the moon, and he walked with a grace that was both fluid and dangerous. Without speaking he approached her, and from the back of his pants withdrew a handgun.

She gasped.

He tossed it on the bed and reached for her, the hand that had flung the gun away grabbing her by the wrist, his other hand wrapping around her lower back as he stepped in close to her body. "It's not loaded," he whispered, and she lost all concern for the gun as he pulled her closer to him, their bodies meeting at the hips.

His hands dropped to where the hem of her skirt ended and lifted the material a little higher, exposing her thighs to his touch. His hands caressed her skin, teasing her by occasionally circling up close to her crotch without ever quite getting there. She leaned her head on his shoulder as he continued to crunch and gather up the material of her clothes in his hands, and gingerly leaned in to run her lips against his neck and blow softly on his skin.

When she did that, he hiked her skirt up around her waist and took a step closer to her, wedging his thigh between her legs and pulling her torso close to his chest, adjusting her position with his hands on her rear. His leg rubbed at her crotch, and she held onto his shoulders to support herself. As she started to breathe more heavily, she felt his hands tangle in her hair.

Heero was enjoying the sound her quickened breathing. The sight of her creamy white legs exposed with her skirt bunched up around her waist was visually enticing while the feeling her knee brushing up occasionally against his growing hard-on was almost more than he could bear. When her hands dipped to his pants and began to unbutton them, he murmured her name to stop her. When she didn't stop he grabbed her arms, crossing and trapping them over her chest with one arm in a hold usually reserved for subduing an adversary and turning her around so that his aggressive, slightly domineering grip on her was close enough that he could feel every inch of her along the front of his body.

She quieted in his arms, struggling only enough to test the security of her imprisonment. He leaned forward, parting her hair with his free hand to run his fingers along her neck and shoulders. "Have you had this fantasy before, Relena?" she whispered just behind her ear.

She didn't respond with words, but he could feel her trembling. He quickly shed her of her blouse and then unbuttoned her skirt, dropping it down her ankles until her skin pebbled in the sudden cold. He guided her with his body toward the bed.

Shedding herself of all reservations, Relena gave herself up to Heero's control. Their lovemaking made the space between them into a furnace. It was exquisite. Every nerve on Heero's body vibrated with pleasure and he lost himself in his desire. At length, their pants became cries, a sweet sound broken and smothered by the movements of their bodies and the rising pleasure that drowned out their voices.

When it was over, he collapsed over her chest, but the sweat of their bodies made each other's arms an uncomfortable place to rest, and he rose to his knees to find fresher air, breathing deeply as the perspiration cooled and dried on his skin.

Relena remained where she was, staring at the ceiling with a hand on her stomach, swallowing occasionally and breathing hard. After a few moments, she turned to look at him. "Heero, that was incredible. I'm not sure I've ever felt like this before."

He really hadn't expected it to be quite that good, and hung his head to catch both his breath and his thoughts. He was tired, but energized as well. After a moment, he rolled onto his back beside her, staring up at the ceiling as she had done earlier.

"Yeah," he said, belatedly returning the sentiment, and finally turned his head to look at her. Her face glowed with the evidence of her exertion, and he took deep breaths of his own, reveling in the pleasantness of the moment, but knowing it couldn't last forever. After a minute of silence, he rolled onto his side and looked her in the eyes. "I'm not going to stay the night this time," he informed her soberly.

She didn't blink or frown or anything, merely looking at him as if he were exactly what she expected. "I see." There was no judgment or disappointment in her tone. If anything she seemed satisfied, smiling as she closed her eyes and sunk deeper into her pillows. "I have to wonder why you wanted to come back, though," she said. "It's my turn to ask. What is it we're doing?"

"What do you think about it?" he asked slowly.

"It's been wonderful. I'm happy," she said simply, "for now anyway."

He nodded. "I wouldn't be opposed to another turn," he said, "so long as you're happy, and as long as you know I won't stay or be with you forever."

"I know," she said. "I appreciate your honesty. Are you saying you want us to be lovers?"

"It's not love."

"I know," she repeated, and sat up, wrapping her arms loosely around her knees. "That's not how I meant it, but it is a kind of love affair if we make a habit of it." She sighed heavily. "Heero, I can't promise I won't develop feelings for you again if this continues, but I do know you and I understand what you're asking. If this is going to happen again, we need to set limitations, and be clear about expectations. What is it you want?"

"I don't want you to be hurt," he said, "but I enjoy this and I'd like to continue it if you're willing. I have needs, Relena. They were unexpected but I have them, and you meet them better than anyone. I know things can get complicated with us, but I care about you and I know you care about me. I don't know how I'm going to feel about this either, but even if the feelings I have for you grow stronger, I won't be able to keep any kind of promise to you. I won't be able to stay around."

"So you plan to be in and out then," she said. It wasn't a question, and it didn't seem to phase or surprise her. "In that case, let me be clear about what I want. I enjoy this too, and I _do_ care about you and it pleases me to meet each other's needs when there's no one else and we both happen to be available, but I can't promise I will be available anymore than you can promise to be around. I have a lot of work to do and that has to come first. I'm also not going to put my love life on hold if you're not going to be a permanent aspect of it. I'm going to be looking for someone else, Heero, even when you're around, and if I ever do have someone else in my life I expect you to stay away."

"That's fair," was all he had to say. That was what he wanted too. For him and the life he had chosen, it was how it had to be.

"So we're not bound to each other physically," she said, "anymore than we are emotionally. No jealousy." She thought on that for a moment and then shook her head. "Better not to discuss it if there's anyone else in your life," she amended. "I can't promise not to feel jealous if I think that the arrangement we have is because I'm special to you."

"You are special," he said, "but I understand what you mean."

"And if at any time either of us is unhappy," she continued, "or wants more than the other is willing to give, then it's over."

He agreed to that too. It almost went without saying.

"And we have to keep quiet about it," she added. "I'm sure people will find out, but officially it has to be a secret. Even if the whole world knows, publicly we must maintain that it's a rumor."

"Do you really worry that I would do anything else?" he asked her.

She turned to him with a smile. "No, but I had to say it anyway."

Gently, he lifted her elbow off the sheets and pulled her close to him. His lips touched her forehead, affectionately sealing her to his heart as someone who was indeed special, even if he didn't think he had it in him to love her or be with her forever the way she needed and deserved to be loved. They sat together on the bed for a little while longer, silently enjoying the glow of the other's presence after lovemaking and pondering the prospects of having a future in each other's arms…from time to time.

At length, Heero rose from the bed and dressed again as he had before. When he had everything, including the gun that he had unloaded before entering onto Relena's property but which he never left home without, he turned back to the window through which he had entered.

"Are you sure you don't want to use the door?" she asked.

He hesitated and then shook his head. "Maybe next time."

"Take care of yourself," she said, and he nodded as he climbed out the window and vanished into the night.

For awhile longer Relena leaned back against the headboard and thought about what she had agreed to. It brought a feeling of excitement to her breast, a reason to expect the unexpected, but also a worried tremor to her stomach that maybe she was buying more than she could afford, and that the consequences could not be foreseen. At the moment, she didn't have any particular emotional attachment to Heero, certainly not like she once had in her past, but she could again if she allowed herself, if she let herself for a moment think that maybe Heero really could change. Fortunately, she had been scorched severely enough that she really didn't believe that anymore. She just had to mire all of her movements and motives around the hard, single truth that Heero was not for keeps.

With this finalizing thought, she rose to take a shower before bed, pleased by the arrangement given the terms and satisfied that she had spent even an hour in Heero Yuy's arms, even just for the physical satisfaction. Someday she would find somebody else who could truly make her happy, but for now there was the prospect of a secret love affair, a love affair with a man who cared about her and understood her, whose lovemaking fulfilled her desires and relieved her stress, a man she could count on and expect to be exactly as he had proposed… And that wasn't a terrible thing.

TBC (sometime)

Author's Note: (Possible spoilers for this story. Lol)

After reading some reviews, I decided to edit this for little mistakes and explain where this story is going, hopefully without giving it away.

I'm a little worried that my most recently completed story, Desires of the Heart, has some people worried that these fics of mine that lean toward a more "realistic" relationship are going to be horrifically disappointing. I would like to say to my deeply beloved 1xR fandom that I am and always will be a 1xR Forever Shipper. I have been writing this pairing for SEVEN years. And I _still_ haven't entirely figured out how this couple would work out if the series were to actually continue. Ever since I began writing this pairing a part of me has believed that Heero's instinct and determination all along has been to walk away from Relena. This is, more of less, what he actually does in the series, and in Endless Waltz, AND in all the little mangas that tell the possible story of what happens between the series and the movie. His reasons vary from silence to Relena being busy with peace and his being a distraction to that, to being uncomfortable with the idea of hanging out anyone for long, to having his own self to sort out first, to not really caring about her that way, to not thinking he's the right person for her, etc. However, I also think that fate or circumstance or need for her (or someone) continually draws Heero close to Relena again, whether she knows it or not, and that Heero himself is very unsure of his feelings or the future.

This fic is based around this idea. However, the pairing never seemed to have much hope of blossoming when Relena's feelings for Heero were so strong that she could potentially frighten him away by putting too much pressure on him to do something he doesn't know how to do. Therefore, in this fic, as inspired by Desires of the Heart, Relena no longer has those kinds of pressurizing feelings and attachment to Heero, which results from their having tried a relationship and having that relationship fail. I think this is what will give them a chance in this particular story.

We're starting at the bottom of the barrel so the only way to go is up. Hope that comforts you!


	3. On Location

Note: Some reviews for the last chapter made me worry about how this story is being perceived. If you go back to chapter two, there's a little author's note added to the bottom of the page that I hope will be helpful. Thank you very much!

Chapter has been edited for sexual content. Please refer to Blissful Ignorance or Mediaminer for the uncut version.

Amour

Chapter 3

By Zapenstap

Relena rose early enough the next morning that she wandered down to the main floor of the house before her household staff had arrived to light the rooms and begin making breakfast. It was quiet as she padded downstairs in her slippers and robe, quiet and empty, with far too much space for one person. She strolled into the dining room still thinking about the previous evening, hoping to make herself a cup of tea before she was forced to take a shower and prepare for her early morning meetings.

Upon entering the kitchen, Relena discovered that she was not the _only_ person awake at such an hour. The other person awake—other than Relena's small security team—was Candice Mae, Manager of the House, who sat on a chair by the mantel with her graying hair tied in a bun and her own cup of tea by her elbow.

Relena's mansion was large enough that it was practically its own business. The property belonged to the Darilan family, the deed transferred specifically to Relena by her mother, for Relena had given away everything that had once been Peacecraft when she officially reverted to being a Darilan. The staff was familiar with the property and the Darilan family both, having served members of the family who had lived in this house for generations. The only notable absence was that of Pagan, who had died two summers ago. Thinking of Pagan still saddened Relena, for he had been a loyal friend and dependable servant of the Peacecraft family. He was unique and impossible to replace, but Candice Mayer was unique in her own way and she knew her job.

"Good morning," Relena said as she entered.

The older woman didn't even look up from her morning paper. "Who is he?" she asked, and calmly took a sip her tea. Relena froze in place, startled, but when the matronly woman she turned to face her she only added, "The man you took to bed last night."

From anyone else it would have been a rude question, but not if you knew Candice Mae. Candice Mae had been in this mansion since before Relena was a baby. She had seen three generations of Darilans grow up in this house, witnessed many broken hearts and attended more than a few marriages. Though she was notoriously conservative in her old age after the death of her husband, it was rumored that she had had a wild and passionate youth, and she never commented on the romantic choices of other people. The way she looked at Relena was point-blank and knowing, knowing that Relena had slept with someone last night, and possibly even knowing the circumstances of the arrangement. There was no reprimand in her expression. Relena was a grown woman, and if anyone knew how hard Relena worked and how little time she had for herself much less for a man in her life, it was Candice Mae.

"Heero," Relena replied simply, knowing it was a waste of time and energy to evade.

Candace Mae nodded. "I like to know who to expect in this house," was all she said, still without judgment or suggestion. "This is the same boy as before?"

Relena nodded again.

"I'll see that he's welcomed here," she said simply. She took a sip of her tea and set her empty cup on the platter before turning a sympathetic look to Relena. "Be careful, my dear. The heart is a fragile organ."

Relena didn't have to be told twice, and Candice Mae didn't have to inquire any further about it. They both knew the situation and Candice Mae could be trusted to make sure everyone in the household knew what they need to know and _only_ what they needed to know. Relena wouldn't have to say a word about it, or make any kind of defense. In this household, at least among the staff, the word of Candice Mae was law.

As for the heart being fragile, Relena knew that too. Candice Mae had never met Heero before, but she knew about him. During Heero and Relena's past relationship Heero had never come to her house or bothered to meet her relations, but Relena had been dreamy-eyed and wistful enough to spend her time gazing out of windows. Candice Mae had not been shy in telling her that she was a fool girl in love, no doubt with a bigger fool. Relena hadn't listened at the time. It had almost been like she and Heero were seeing each other in an isolated bubble, a kind of surreal, fairy-like place where they could pretend that they were the only people that existed and where anything was possible. Or that's how Relena had felt anyway. When Heero revealed his inability to do more than protect her, it was to Candice Mae that Relena had cried until she had no more tears to weep.

As Relena poured herself a cup of tea, the old woman smiled at her from over the rim of her own cup. "He must be good," she said, and had the pleasure of seeing Relena's face brighten to a shade of crimson pink.

Later that day, when she sat alone in her office, Relena thought about how good it had been. It was amazing, really. Where the efforts of other men only made Relena smile, Heero could heat her blood with his eyes. The touch of his hands on her body left illusionary burns on her skin. Last night he had come to her after dark and left before midnight, but for the time he was there, he might as well have been the only person who existed. Truthfully, it _had_ been a fantasy of hers, as he had so sharply surmised, and the eroticism of trapping and undressing her the way he had, of telling her what to do in her own bedroom, of giving her two orgasms in two different positions, did not easily leave her mind.

She had never experienced sex like that before. She certainly hadn't thought she would like it quite so much. There was something unmistakably addictive about Heero, though, or there was for her anyway. He hovered on the edge of her thoughts like a shadow, and whenever she allowed him to get close he consumed her for a short, euphoric time in a delicious darkness. It wasn't an evil darkness; just mysterious, a deep seriousness overlaid by a quiet, deceivingly dangerous air. And pervasive through it all was a glimmering vein of tender, almost vulnerable kindness. That was Heero.

Relena shook her head. She had work to do, too much to allow herself even a few moments of wayward thinking of this sort. No matter how incredible Heero made her feel or how comfortable she felt admitting it, their dalliance could only be temporary. Their connection was more than a primal, physical need, but it wasn't love—he had told her he could never love her—and thinking about her affection for him in such lyrical, metaphorical ways would only confuse the issue and complicate their present understanding. Therefore, she had to stop it.

If she had known that Heero was thinking about her as much as she was thinking about him, she might have felt a deeper pang of warning.

* * *

"Hey, you! Yeah, you on the plane. Are you the pilot?"

The wing of the plane under Heero's feet echoed as he walked along the frame back toward the cockpit. Planes in a hangar always looked both larger and heavier than they did in the sky or on a runway, especially when people were moving around them in various stages of routine maintenance checks, but this remodeled fighter plane would sleek and small and—to Heero—graceful no matter where it was seen, especially devoid of weapons as all planes were built nowadays. A steel bird.

The man that had shouted waved at him with both arms. Heero leapt to the ground, landing lightly on his feet even in heavy steel-toed boots, and closed the distance between himself and the other man unhurriedly, his stride carrying him in measured paces that spoke volumes of control. Around the hangar, men in work uniforms, some carrying tools and some carrying clipboards and pens, turned around curiously to watch.

"Look," the man who was directing his mission said in an almost perfunctory tone of voice, "I know you value your privacy, but if you're going to pilot for us we need to know who you're working for."

"I'm not working for anybody," Heero told him. "Don't worry. There's no liability."

The man's face paled slightly. "It's not that," he said, sounding a little nervous. "We don't anticipate that anything will happen to you. It's just policy if we're going to pay you and entrust you with one of our planes that we know a little about your background."

"I've already told you what you need to know."

The man had seemed deadly curious since Heero applied for the job, especially when Heero demonstrated working knowledge of how to operate, maintain and even customize even the most intricate cockpit systems in aerospace technology. At Heero's age, it was almost unheard of.

"You have the highest references," the other man assured him hastily. "When you showed up, I wasn't sure, but we placed a call to the ESUN Central Defense and I'm told that Colonel Une personally recommended you. So you see, all your references check out. It's just…" He frowned dubiously. "Who are you?"

"I'm just the guy you hired to pilot the plane," Heero said, and declined to continue the conversation further by passing by his director on the left. "If it bothers you, find someone else."

The man called after him, his raised voice echoing in the public space of the hangar. "You leave for Malaysia in three days!" When Heero didn't turn around or make any kind of response, the fellow added "enjoy yourself on your down time!" as if in some attempt to connect to Heero's sociable side.

Enjoy himself. Heero grunted as he gathered his coat and headed out.

Leaving the hangar always left Heero feeling somewhat nostalgic and regretful. It wasn't that he cared either way for the technicians—in fact, he would probably have preferred to handle the maintenance himself if that were an option—but he loved the planes. They had both shaped and saved his life. In a way, they were all he knew about living, or at least all he knew about an aspect of life that he enjoyed in a simple, liberating way. There was something about piloting aircraft that made him feel free, even when he was mired in the worst or most dangerous missions. Even now.

Of course, flying wasn't the only thing Heero did. His work was independently contracted and he took whatever was offered and did whatever needed doing. Occasionally he would do favors for people he knew in the ESUN Defense Core or its counter agencies in the Colonies but for the most part he sought work by keeping abreast of Peace-threatening situations and offering his services to interested parties. Though the Earth Sphere was officially united as one nation and no more weapons of war were being mass manufactured by war-mongering parties, there were still opportunists who desired to retaliate against opposition through violence and other means of disruption. Such disturbances were caused by the weak and the selfish, but weakness and selfishness could never be purged from humanity, and there would always be a need for those willing to protect potential victims from such people.

For Heero, that trajectory of thought—the one that sustained the purpose of his existence—led indubitably to Relena. Relena was the only human being whose humanity reflected what he had always thought was impossible in one person. She was strong; she fought battles in board rooms tougher than he fought everyday, and her victories resulted in real changes being made in the world. And she was selfless; her life's work sprang from a desire to serve other people, to bring peace and comfort to other people, even to forgive other people.

He was having second thoughts about their arrangement. Even though she claimed not to love him as she once had, he knew it was unwise to do with her what he wanted to do, what he had done with her last night and what he still wanted to do now.

Of course it was amazing the way she responded to his touch. Her pleasure at his command was intoxicating, but like a drug it numbed his ability to reason. She seemed willing to acquiesce to his needs when he demanded it and even admitted that she had them herself, but that wasn't fair to her. It didn't seem right.

He felt a fool for taking things this far. He couldn't give her anything but longing for what he could never fulfill. She couldn't give him anything but regret. In the long run this was a mistake. He knew it as surely as he longed to touch her again. The right thing to do was to walk away, to leave her to focus on her important work and to give her a chance of finding someone else, someone who could make her dreams come true. For Heero it was a clear trajectory, a straight line from point A to point B, a line he had avoided thinking through to its endgame before now. It was because he enjoyed his sexual encounters with Relena. He also enjoyed her company. But in continuing to do what they had twice now they would inevitably grow attached to each other. Despite his desire, he had to protect her first, and protecting had always meant keeping a safe distance. The distance now was not safe enough.

The technicians in the hangar watched the young man standing in the sunlight just outside the hangar, standing straight and still, lithe and slender as a steel blade, hands relaxed and his sides and face turned toward a blue sky that his eyes seemed to penetrate by sheer force of will.

When he moved again, it was toward Relena's office.

Relena hadn't been working for very long when a knock resounded on her door. A moment later her secretary poked her head through the door and announced that Relena had an unscheduled visitor.

When Heero walked into the room, dressed in a black jacket and jeans and seemingly unconcerned by appearing in street clothes in her private office, Relena didn't know what to say. They stared at each other in silence, sharp blue eyes meeting sharp blue eyes in a direct line that seemed stretched as taut as the sexual tension that pervaded the air between them. Immediately she knew why he had come.

Heero looked away first, glancing at the papers on her desk. "What are you working on?" he asked.

"A way to dissolve a dispute in Malaysia," she replied. "There's discontent among the populace that could turn ugly if it's not settled diplomatically."

He didn't say anything. She doubted it was what was really on his mind.

"Heero," she said. "I have an appointment in little over an hour and I have some work to do with this before they arrive. Is there something you want to say?"

Her eloquence and formality failed her on the last few syllables, when he lifted his head again to meet her in the eyes. There was something sharp in them, something cold and determined that was giving way to something else, something fierce and demanding, something that made her swallow, her skin heating under her coat and skirt, feeling dizzy as if she had been sitting for too long in the sun. Taking a sharp breath, he looked away hastily, blushing in spite of herself.

Heero looked away too. Clearly it hadn't been the message he meant to convey or to feel. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he moved resolutely around her desk to stand beside her. He looked at her as if he wanted to say something and she leaned back away from him to give him room to speak, but instead he turned away from her, shifting his attention to the papers on her desk. She could tell he was familiar with the material from the way his eyes jumped from one stack to the next, clearly sorting them the way she had sorted them. "I wouldn't do it this way," he said after a tense moment, gesturing at the stack nearest to him and furthest from her. She pushed her chair back and stood, leaning over his arm to see, wondering why just standing beside him could arouse her desire so thoroughly and why she was encouraging it by moving closer.

"That's the one I was already going to change," she said.

Their bodies hovered inches from touching, their arms crossing where their hands had landed on the table. Heero raised his head again, brown locks of hair falling down to frame his face as their eyes met. At first they stared at one another with steely resistance, fighting to maintain integrity, to prove that they were strong enough to do what was right for the other. But as the contest lengthened, something like longing must have come into each of their expressions because they both started breathing heavier.

"Relena, you're…" Heero trailed off, but she knew what he meant because she felt it too. She could see him becoming confused, weighing in his mind the clash of feelings, fighting the mixed-up desires, sorting out the fear and temptation that was both sanctity for the soul and the precipice poised over destruction.

She solved the problem for him.

Reaching up with one hand, she touched the cheek furthest from her reach and turned her face toward her. As her hand slid around the back of Heero's neck, she rose onto her toes, her lips meeting Heero's in a kiss that was both surrender and assault. Even the initial unyielding taste of his lips compressed something deep in her middle until she shivered and released him. Heero said nothing, nor did he move. They remained with their heads almost touching, breathing each other's air, noses touching cheeks, every movement down to the flutter of an eyelash perceptible to the other.

At length, Heero wrapped both hands around Relena's hips, his fingers sliding down the sides of her legs, caressing her thighs as he closed his eyes and breathed.

"I don't mind," she said in halting, breathy tones that demanded as much as they yielded, her eyes fluttering open and closed. "Even if I get hurt, I want to be happy for now. Please…" She ran her palms up and down his arms in a gesture of desire she couldn't suppress even if her mind assured her it was the best way to protect her heart. After establishing territory on his person, her hands traveled down to his hips and slid around to grasp his backside, applying pressure to pull his hips toward her.

"Relena…" There was a bit of a strain in Heero's voice, and as he pulled her close enough to where he could feel her entire body up against his front, she realized his voice wasn't the only part of him that was beginning to strain. As she leaned against his chest she felt his lips on her neck and his fingers kneading into her clothes along her spine. Slipping his hands under blouse, he worked his fingers under the strap of her bra until he could massage the smooth, bare skin of her back. His kisses on her neck and shoulders became urgent, his touches more demanding, and she responded by reaching down to pull off his belt and unbutton his pants.

He glanced at the door and then at the clock. When he looked back at her for an answer, she nodded without speaking.

Heero's hand pulled out from under her blouse and unzipped her skirt, releasing the material so that it fell to the ground around her heeled shoes. With the lower half of their clothes in a heap on the floor, Heero made to lift her up onto the edge of the desk, his hand grasping her hips as if read to hoist her onto the surface of the wooden table.

"No, wait," she said, trying not to make her words sound breathy or strained with the heat and urgency she felt. "My papers." Pushing against his shoulders, she pressed him backward until he settled into her black leather office chair.

Later, a thin sheen of sweat made Heero's clothes stick to his body and she found herself smoothing the wrinkles out of the fabric as he slowly lifted his head from her shoulder and blinked his eyes. Just from looking at his face she could tell he was replete from pleasure. A contented calm smoothed out his features, turning tension into tiredness and wariness into weariness. He held onto her for a moment with his hands behind her back before his regular expression returned to dominate his features, hardening everything from the lines in his forehead to the tightness in his jaw.

Relena's legs felt shaky as she stood. In silence they cleaned up and redressed, retrieving their clothes from the floor and Relena moving to open the windows to let fresh air into the room. When Relena returned to her desk, Heero was working with her papers, doing her work for her and doing it faster than she could have done it alone. It was with a researched hand that he underlined, circled and crossed-out lines and sections of the proposals she was meant to configure.

"How long are you going to be in Malaysia?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know," he said. He didn't ask her how she knew that's where he was going—it should have been obvious enough—and after keeping his missions and whereabouts a secret for so long, he almost seemed relieved to say anything. Doubtless, what he would be doing in Malaysia was potentially dangerous, but even if nothing came of it, he would still go.

"I'm going to be touring next week," she said, seating herself in her chair and retrieving a pen to help with the documentation. "Bouncing from hotel to hotel." She paused and then added, "It will be lonely."

His hands stopped moving and he turned his head so that she found herself looking into his eyes. He had incredible eyes. "I can find you anywhere," he said in a tone that was quieter and darker than hers, rich with feeling though elusive as to what kind, "if you want me to."

"I'm not afraid of you," she said, somewhat truthfully, though what she meant was that she was not afraid of seeing him, or how it would make her feel. He looked down, his hands still on the surface of the desk, and she wondered if he didn't agree, or if, in fact, he was the one who was afraid.

"Can I see you before I go?" he asked after a moment of silent reflection. He didn't look at her, but his throat flashed as he swallowed.

"Yes," she said.

Anytime. Anywhere. She was addicted and she knew it. Her feelings for Heero were necessarily suppressed, but not extinguished, and at this point she didn't care if she fell in love again, or even if she got hurt. In some ways, that must be what she wanted, even knowing he wouldn't stay with her, even knowing that there was never even an illusion of commitment. She didn't want to be left pining for him alone, but if he was willing to come around regularly, whatever the reason, then she would take that, the good with the bad.

There was a knock on the door that started them both, and a moment later Relena's secretary poked her head in again. What she found was merely Relena's visitor on the wrong side of the desk, bent over her paperwork with a pen in his hand while Relena sat in her chair beside him and made no excuses. It was an innocent scene, and doubtless her secretary thought little of it other than that Heero must be here to help Miss Darilan with something important, but Relena blushed anyway. He had certainly helped her, but not just with the paperwork, and she was doubtlessly the only one who thought the other bit was important.

When the dignitaries Relena had arranged to meet arrived, Heero left, but not without casting a backward glance over his shoulder, something that she took as a promise, even if he didn't verbalize or commit to it.

In the next few days, she saw Heero more than once, though not all of those encounters ended up being sexual in nature. It was more of him than she had seen in a year, and even more than she had seen of him when they had been "dating" years ago. The uncertain expectation of his presence made her world seem full of shimmers and her body literally hummed whenever he came into view. It was always with a sort of tempered violence that he appeared, touching her hand in a public hallway, meeting her backstage after a speech, even seizing her once between meetings and pulling her into a small, secluded room for a quick physical exertion that left them both shaken and trembling. Sometimes they were interrupted and sometimes she said no, usually because she was busy, and once because she was too exhausted from her work to give him or herself the attention their sordid coupling deserved. Nevertheless, they had sex twice more before Heero left for Malaysia. They didn't talk anymore about it, or attempt to justify what they meant by it. Relena held on to Heero by transfixing her assumption that it wouldn't last, or at least that their unions would be sporadic and unpredictable. Of course, the more she saw of him, the more a secret part of her wanted him to stay by her side, as a part of her always had, but she didn't indulge it, or even think about it, and she never mentioned it to him.

After three days, Heero vanished. He didn't say he was going, but when she saw him last—both of them closeted in her office again with no time for anything more than touching and tantalizing whispers—he acted strangely. He kept touching her with his hands, fingers tugging at her clothes or crinkling her hair as they stood together by the window, fully dressed and not attempting more than touches, but with the air between them heavy with thought and desire. Even while touching her, he kept looking away, staring out the window into the sky, his face expressionless. When he left it was with a curt nod and a hurried step, a stride that carried him away like a ship headed to sea.

It was natural to wonder what he would be doing when he left. He certainly had a lot of skills, more than the average person, and enough references from well-connected people that he should be able to land work without a documented education or even a personal record if he chose to use his connections. A few well-placed phone calls to people they both knew could probably reveal the specifics of his work, but Relena refrained from doing this out of respect for his privacy. She knew he was going to be in Malaysia, and that was enough.

For a week she didn't see him, and at length took to her own trip without feelings of regret or dismay. She thought about him while she toured, not in the dreamy, flattering way she once had, but really thinking about him.

Everyone knew what a gundam pilot was. They were intergalactic heroes, recognized with awe and ever-increasing nostalgia from every corner of the inhabited universe as the saviors of both the Earth and the Colonies. But only a select few knew who the gundam pilots were, or had the resources available to find out. All most people knew was that there weren't very many of them and they were—as rumor went—undefeatable. Of the five, Heero was the most famous and also the least known. It had been Heero who saved the Earth and thwarted the Barton Foundation, but publicly it was "Wing Zero's pilot" who had done that, and though the legacy of Wing Zero grew every year, Heero's name wasn't known, not even among people who were military experts or acclaimed historians.

It probably served him best that way. He was able to move around more freely and comfortably. Fame was not something Relena believed Heero desired; she wasn't even sure it was something he could handle. Her one-time prince she knew was a destabilized, soul-searching vagrant. There was nothing inimitably wrong with him; he handled his tribulations with grace and selflessness, but his sense of isolation infused his decisions and behaviors with a wariness of other people, of getting mixed-up with other people, especially emotionally, even if that was what he desperately needed.

It wasn't until she was holed up in a hotel in Brussels, exhausted and nursing a headache from the labors of her work, that she realized the significance that her affair with Heero was having on his psychology and the nature of their relationship.

She had just returned to her suite after a long and grueling day talking in front of hundreds of people, most of them in politics and every last one of them judging, weighing and raking her every word. She had skipped dinner and was thinking about a pleasant conversation she had had with the charming and attractive son of William Balen, a European politician who had been a long time supporter of her projects and relationship-building campaigns with the people of the Colonies. William's son Gregory was a man near her own age who had kept her interested and attentive while they drank wine at the party following the proceedings. As her tryst with Heero was unfettered, she indulged easily in the flirtation, and even managed to forget about Heero after a few drinks and a few dances.

Back in her room, she removed her clothes and adorned her towel bathrobe, padding barefoot to the exquisite, half-circle tub in the bathroom that was easily large enough to stretch out and float in and in which she hoped to spend a luxurious half-hour relieving herself from the tension of her day. As hot water plunged onto the golden-beige tub, she took down her hair and hummed a melody she remembered hearing her mother sing to her long ago.

A knock on her door startled her, but she walked out of the bathroom and across the plush carpet to investigate. Peering through the keyhole, she did a double take before unlocking her door and allowing Heero Yuy into her room. It had been three weeks, with no word, though her sources alleged that operations in Malaysia were going well, and after the first few days she had stopped expecting him.

"Hey," he said.

He was dressed in full flight gear, uniformed head-to-toe even to the badge of wings on his left breast. There was sweat and traces of dirt on his skin, evidence of having spent more than a few days without civilities or modern conveniences, and he seemed tired, if not exhausted, the light in his eyes burning on midnight oil. More shockingly, her heart lurched at the sight of him, tipping her emotional balance into a white haze of confusion. Her heart beat erratically as he entered her room and closed the door behind him, and thudded when his eyes turned to assess her physically in her robe.

"You need a shower," she said, suddenly unable to think, fighting something she thought had died off long ago.

Her bath was full, but Heero declined to use it. Instead he stepped into her shower, stripping out of his clothes in front of her and seemingly unconcerned about it as he laid them in a neat pile on the counter. She ran her eyes over his body, tracing toned muscles and noting new cuts and bruises she hadn't remembered from before. Nothing serious, thankfully, but enough to remind her that the work he did was dangerous, even if he was good at it. It was a gorgeous body, hardened like steel yet fluid and graceful. She watched until he stepped into the shower and closed the door, turning on the water and making use of the soap after the grit and discomfort of his completed operation.

Relena disrobed, aware that Heero could probably see her through the etched glass but worrying about it as little as he did. She knelt beside the tub to test the temperature before stepping in, hot steam rising around her waist as she sank into the water, the heat easing the tension from her muscles and soothing her skin. She sank under the water momentarily to wet her hair and then leaned back against the edge of the tub, submerged up to her shoulders and enjoying her bath as she had intended with her eyes clothed.

Heero's shower lasted seven minutes. Relena listened when he first emerged, the shower door opening and closing behind him with a soft, metallic clang. She looked only when he stepped into view, her eyes raking a body now clean and dripping with water. He glanced first at her robe on the floor and then turned to look at her in the bath. His expression didn't change, but she felt sparks as he stepped into the hot water, displacing it so that it rose a little higher to her shoulders. She made room for him with her legs, for between them was the only place for him to go.

The touch of Heero's hands on her flesh was silky under the water. She felt all of him, his arms dipping into the water to wrap around her back, pressing her chest against his as his her legs wrapped around him. The water flowed in and out between the crooks and crannies separating their skin and Heero closed his eyes almost rapturously, pushing her wet hair away from her face and sighing into her ear. Her arms snaked around his back and neck, massaging his skin until he lowered his head, but she was surprised when he lowered it to kiss her.

It was a kiss unlike the intoxicated, bruising initiation of their first encounter at her birthday party, and very unlike her suggestive request in her office. With his body pressed up against hers, water flowing between them with no space elsewhere to breathe, Heero's kiss soothed and inflamed her both at once. The contact was not short, but languid, his lips warm and soft and inviting, seeking something deeper from her than the contact of their bodies alone could provide.

She gasped for air when he released her.

If he was surprised by his own advance, he didn't show it, and answered her desperate, pleading expulsion of breath with his body rather than his lips.

Afterward, she held him as he relaxed, letting his head fall against her shoulder, eyes closed and weary as she caressed his back with both her hands and the cooling water. Later, after they had risen from the bath, dried off and drained the water, Heero came to bed with her. Under the circumstances, she expected him to stay, but under the covers, he held her, sidling close so that her head rested on his arm. She laid awake while he caressed her, his free hand tracing patterns on her skin, smoothing her flesh under his palm and exploring the curves of her body, all with his sexual needs already drained and nothing to keep him there.

Something, she knew, was changing between them, but she was afraid to ask. Even while holding her under the white sheets, his skin soft and cool and clean next to hers, Heero didn't seem to realize what he was doing, or think much about it. His attention was focused on her skin, his touch studying her naked body almost abstractedly as she breathed quietly in his arms.

"Heero," she whispered as the lulling motion of his hands soothed her sleep, drowsiness emboldening her words.

"Nothing's changed, Relena," he whispered, and removed his hand from her body.

She closed her eyes, biting back a trembling objection that protested his words. She knew suddenly and with absolute certainly that she was not mistaken, but neither was Heero wrong. Attraction had brought them together, their desire for the flesh of another person entangling their bodies as the satisfaction of sex pleasured their senses, but the trap of attraction was vulnerability, and it was shredding their walls, altering their defenses and opening a floodgate of tenderness that had been long-suppressed and steadfastly denied.

In the morning, Heero was gone when Relena awoke, like a wisp of smoke that vanished like steam when the heat cooled. She had expected it, and dreaded it, and as she sat up in her bed with only a sheet to cover her, she felt a pang in her heart. What had to be had to be, for Heero could only give as much as he was ready to take, and she reminded herself that whatever happened and however they felt about it, they had a deal. To protect herself, she couldn't stop to wait for what might never be. She had to keep looking. After all, one day…someday soon even…she wanted to be part of a family.

She was tired of being alone.

* * *

TBC

* * *

Review? (makes irresistibly adoring eyes) 


	4. Of Other Men

Amour

Chapter 4

By Zapenstap

It wasn't all about sex.

In fact, as time went on, sex had less and less to do with it.

Heero found enjoyment in sex, or at least he enjoyed it with Relena, but that alone was not what kept him coming around to see her. For years he had been telling himself that there was nothing he could give Relena and nothing she could give to him that would ultimately do either of them any favors, or at least not at this time in his life. And yet something between them was good enough to make a few hours in her company worthwhile, though he didn't understand what it was and couldn't put the way he felt about it into words.

He knew it wasn't love.

Heero understood love the way he understood most things conceptually, and he knew that he was not ready for it. It was probable that he never would be. It wasn't because he was unemotional, or cold, the way he allowed—and even encouraged—most people to believe. It was because his emotions were too strong, and therefore fiercely controlled. It was what gave him his level of intensity, and he knew it was a stunted existence, but it was the only way he knew how to live. Anything else was dangerous. He had trained himself to bury his feelings deep, monitoring them from a distance, and only allowing himself to feel enough to know what to do. If he didn't, he couldn't trust himself to curb his instinct enough to make the right decisions. He had had to train himself to suppress feelings so as not to go crazy—the way Quatre once did.

And even if it _was_ love he felt for Relena, or something reminiscent of it, that didn't mean he was ready to accept it, or express it, or would be capable of taking responsibility for the consequences if he did.

Romance was a foreign concept to a boy who had grown up on war. Trying to love Relena—if indeed, he was even capable of such an emotion—was something Heero knew he would inevitably screw up. Though he understood love as a concept and as a feeling, the _act_ of loving someone—at least romantically—wasn't something he understood at all. He knew what it looked like—flowers and dinner and acts of thoughtfulness leading to a home, a family, and children—but it wasn't something he knew how to do. Heero was sensitive in that he understood people, but he was not sensitive in a sentimental way. He didn't know how to deal with the needs or emotions of other people. His trained instinct was to bury pain, sadness, fear, even happiness, to ignore it unless it was useful in making a decision, and then to control it to do what needed to be done. Those habits were not about to die, for he had no way of reworking what his training for piloting the gundam had wrought. He wasn't cut out to be anyone's sweetheart or boyfriend. He definitely wasn't cut out to be a husband or a father.

And he knew that deep down, that was exactly what Relena wanted…someday.

Even as an idea, the commitment involved was staggering. He had grown up expecting to die—wanting to die. To give his life to another person, to be expected to stay in one place and share—by default of proximity—his deepest secrets and vulnerabilities, to be someone else's physical and emotional support, to love and _support_ as well as protect … It was a bewildering concept. It wasn't that he wanted to die any longer, for he had come to see that he had substantial value in risking his life to the protection of peace and stability on Earth as well as in Space, but that was a problem too. His work required the sort of flexibility that would enable him to disappear for a year if the situation required it, or ten years, and there was always the possibility that he might not return. At any moment his life could be snuffed out like a candle flame, and then who would fulfill the promises he made to other people, especially those of love?

He was a soldier. He had never been anything else.

He doubted Relena had ever seen it that way, or looked that far ahead. Sometimes she was so enamored of an idea in the moment that she failed to draw the inevitable conclusions. She believed so strongly in her ideals that even in the stark face of reality, she still wouldn't _admit_ to what she _knew_. He couldn't envision himself forgetting himself and what his life was about enough to be able to love her. He definitely couldn't envision himself promising to stay. The truth was that the only promise he had ever made to keep was his promise to protect Relena from harm, because that was something he _could_ do, because he had come to believe in her and what she was trying to do, and the best way he saw to keep that promise now was to stay the hell away from her.

Besides, he knew his limitations. He had already tested them in an attempt, a foolish, mislead, deluded attempt to give Relena what she thought she wanted. They had shared walks in the moonlight and long talks by firelight. They had held hands and kissed and talked and eventually shared and explored each other's bodies, but never during that time did Heero think he felt what he knew he was supposed to feel. Of course, he had kept his distance, coming around when she needed him but never staying for long, avoiding the intimacy and commitment that would make their union real, but that was the habit and necessity of his life; it was just the way he was. Maybe he hadn't really been _trying_ to succeed, but he _had_ been himself, and that alone ought to have been enough to prove a fact about his existence that was tragically but irrevocably true: that he was incapable of giving Relena the life she deserved. Being himself had broken her heart, a necessary evil that had pained him deeply, but which was honest and far easier for both of them to bear than any of the other endings he had reasoned out as inevitable if he had sought instead to deceive her. Anyway, it was better to fail her as a transient _idea_ than as the absent lover, insensible husband, negligent father or any other eventuality in her mind other than the lone, restless and unfulfilled soldier he would always be.

Of course, nothing in that line of reasoning explained what was happening now.

Heero stared out over the city from the rickety balcony of his small apartment as he thought, the sun setting in the west behind him and lengthening the shadows on the street below. The apartment was merely a temporary residence, one of many in the world, arranged for his use by people who thought they owed him favors. It suited him well enough to accept lodging in the political hub of the world, where Relena lived, so that he was able to keep an eye on her and her local projects while waiting for a developing situation in Space to become dangerous enough to require his intervention. He stood with his elbows on the hard, thin black rail as he thought, oblivious to the bite in the air as a harsh wind bowed the tops of the trees over the roofs of the neighborhood houses down the hill and a few blocks over.

There were children playing on the lawns and in the streets of those neighborhoods. It was not an unusual sight. He watched them sometimes in the quiet hours just before evening, curious about the things they did and the ways they played together, carefree of terror, pain, starvation and death. Watching made him search his mind for memories in his own childhood where he had played like that with other children, or even played alone, but he could never think of anything. It seemed to him that he had always been the same, always directed toward a single goal: peace for others and nothing for himself. The children he watched didn't seem to have any goals, or anything to fear from life or death, if they ever even thought in those terms. As the day darkened into dusk, mothers and fathers appeared on porches and driveways, calling their children in for dinner and rebuking them gently and lovingly if they did not obey.

Heero watched through unseeing eyes until the last door was shut, thinking alone in the silence.

If Relena didn't love him the way she claimed, at least on some level, he didn't think it could possibly feel as good as it felt.

It was a horrible realization, one he had come to understand recently and one he had not been able to dismiss from his mind for several days now. Heero knew he was weak, that he was as human as the next person and just as desperate, but it was not a good excuse. Of course he needed her. He needed her physically, but that wasn't all, or even the more troubling part of the problem. Hers was the only soft touch he had ever really known, and it was close to impossible to forget about once it was experienced. He needed her comfort. And yet he hated that weakness in himself. It was that kind of selfishness, that kind of vulnerability and insecurity that started and prolonged the wars he had fought so hard and bitterly to end.

He had pretended that it was about a physical desire that he needed to be satisfied and which she satisfied better than any other person, and that was true to a certain extent, but he couldn't deny that there was something else in him that sought a deeper satisfaction, that searched for something more elusive and more precious than Relena's body alone could give, a feeling that no woman other than Relena could give. It was a feeling he had longed for all his life, a feeling that came upon him only in fitful bouts and spurts, a feeling that being with her made him experience. It was _happiness_.

He knew he had to control it, to suppress it if he had to. In the past, the feelings he had for Relena waxed and waned as he allowed himself to feel and act on them, but they were always within his control. It was a cruel joke that the sexual exploration that he thought about abstractedly as selfish and emotionally distant would turn out to be so fundamentally relational. Having sex with Relena made him think about her all the time, and the more he thought about her the harder it was to control how he felt about her, to suppress what he felt. Their intimacy was becoming uncontainable, and that was too dangerous; for him certainly, but also for Relena. His feelings, whatever they were, could not fulfill her, not the way they were meant to, not by him. He supposed he could be happy with her after a fashion, but he absolutely was not capable of giving her the _life_ she wanted, and the more his feelings deepened only meant the more unhappy and hurt they would both be when his way of dealing with those feelings frustrated her, when he was distant, impatient, and aloof, when he couldn't make sense of rich, social, political life enough to do her credit, when he had to keep leaving her to do the work that might kill him, when he eventually failed to live up to her expectations as a husband and possibly a parent, when he had to surrender her for her own good to someone else who could treat her better, when she wanted more than his silence, and even more than his words.

It was good that he caught it early. If he hadn't, he might have felt regret—or worse—when another man _did_ enter Relena's life.

He had been getting desperate to once again feel her body close to his and thinking of going to see her when he discovered it, some weeks after his last encounter with Relena in the hotel room in Brussels.

In Brussels, Heero told Relena that nothing had changed, and externally it was true, but internally it wasn't, and he knew that they were both aware of it. He had gone directly from the cockpit of his plane to her hotel room to see her, returning to her the moment he completed the objective of his mission. With one night to spare before he had to return the aircraft to the hangar, he chose to fly to her, to stay the night with her during the few hours he had remaining. He had hacked into the hotel data system to discover Relena's room number and found himself at her door in a state of exhaustion, harboring a need for her arms that he couldn't describe. In Malaysia he had missed her, not just her body, but all of her, though he had told himself during those hot, dark, chaotic days that it was brought on by the extreme loneliness of the field. But it wasn't until after allowing himself a moment of respite in her bath and in her bed that he came to understand how profoundly she affected him. He had been avoiding truly _sleeping_ with her before that night, and now that he had he was disturbingly aware of how much he liked it.

It was following the culmination of one of the large projects that kept her working from dawn until nightfall six or seven days out of the week that he discovered that—in keeping with their agreement—she hadn't waited for him.

There had been a big party to celebrate the victory of a political battle hard fought and hard won, a party Heero hadn't attended. Nevertheless, he found himself hanging around the building until about midnight waiting for her to come out. A few weeks alone had cooled some of the ardor he had felt for Relena after the mission, at least on the surface, but dismissing his desire for her completely didn't seem possible and he had been feeling strange lately, like he was a shimmer or a sparkle quite distinct but disconnected from reality.

Around midnight she did come out, but not alone. The man who was with her didn't seem nearly as unsuitable a match as anyone Heero had seen around her lately. He was tall and fair skinned, well-dressed and seemingly well-connected by the number of animated conversations that halted the pair as he and Relena tried to leave the party. Heero noticed that Relena had a hand on his arm and a smile on her face.

Heero didn't know how long they had been in contact. They could have been acquainted for some time before that night, for it seemed pretty certain that something was progressing rather than beginning when the man strolled with Relena to a chauffeur parked along the curb and kissed her beside the door. After speaking to the driver, he got in beside her.

Heero felt a jolt watching, like being stung by a live electrical current, and for an agonizing, terrifying moment, he wanted nothing more than to satisfy a primal urge to knock the other man to the ground and assert himself in his place beside this woman who belonged to him. It was due to Heero's control over his emotions that the impulse was thwarted, and remembering the terms of their agreement, he merely nodded before walking away. He couldn't complain. He had agreed to let her find someone else, to stay away if she had the chance of being with someone who could satisfy her needs, who could give her a home, a marriage, children—whatever she wanted. He had hoped she would find it. After all, he wanted her to be happy.

Later that night, or rather in the wee hours of the morning when he couldn't sleep, Heero looked up information on Relena's mysterious suitor. All of his references checked out. Gregory Balen was a wealthy man and the son of a politician, though he himself was not in politics. His family was prominent, high-blooded, and known to be charitable. His medical history was sound. His associates spoke well of his character. He had flaws, but they were nothing remarkable. Heero could not find anything that would render him unfit to date Relena, or even marry her if she was ever so inclined, and as far as he was concerned, once he closed his laptop, that was the end of it.

He just wouldn't think of another man touching her.

He wouldn't interfere.

* * *

Relena didn't expect a mild flirtation to turn into a relationship. It began as a way to counteract the way she felt—but knew she must not feel—about Heero. But as time went on it became something else, something normal, something...hopeful.

Gregory Balen had a pleasant, light-hearted sense of humor reminiscent of Sally Po, clean-cut, attractive features, and a devastatingly sharp mind. From the start he was enamored of Relena's success and beauty, amazed by all she had done and all she stood for. He was familiar with her work and supportive of her campaigns, accompanying her to any function or event when he was free, and blessedly comfortable around the press that haunted their every step the first few weeks of their relationship. Together they attended a whirlwind of parties, romantic evenings, extravagant gifts and quiet strolls on deserted landscapes.

With Gregory, Relena was happy. When he kissed her, it was with a besotted sort of aggression that was warm and pleasant and easily returned. Furthermore, meeting and becoming close to someone new and different gave Relena the chance to understand herself from another angle and explore the life her adopted mother and father had planned out for her before the war had changed so much. She and Gregory talked casually about the kind of future they could have together: a comfortable, lucrative lifestyle in a country manor with extensive grounds, horses, dogs, a household staff, children, etc. etc.

In the beginning of the relationship, Relena didn't take any of it too seriously, but as time passed it was clear that Gregory was serious about taking his life in the direction of settling down. The attention he paid her was not casual or transient. His courtship came with expensive gifts, serious talks, and deepening intimacy. Over time, Relena came to regard Gregory with a lucid feeling of love.

Of course, she never forgot Heero Yuy. She didn't expect to, and it took a serious effort to mute her feelings for Heero to the point where she could take a genuine interest in someone else, but she managed it by reminding herself that she and Heero had agreed about what they were both willing and able to give to one another and what they could not afford give up; Relena wanted to be loved openly, to commit someday, to marry someday, and to someday raise a family. As those were not things Heero felt he could do, it was necessary to repress her feelings for him and healthy to lose herself in the whirlwind of a new relationship. Therefore, she didn't hold back.

The first time Relena slept with Gregory was after he told her he loved her. Three months into the relationship, it might have been too soon, or too late; Relena wasn't sure because no man had ever told her he loved her before. It happened on the balcony of Gregory's elegant, spacious home on the plateau where she had been leaning over the rail to look at the stars. He brought her a glass of wine and, after a moment of silence, successfully riveted her attention to him by reminiscing on all the time they had recently spent together, who he thought she was and what her company meant to him. When she responded in kind, he explained that his feelings for her had been strengthening, that he missed her when she was away, that he found himself always looking for ways to romance her, to make her happy, and thinking about what kind of future they might have together. Then he told her that it was because he felt he loved her, and could only hope that she returned the feeling.

She replied that she did, and they retired to the bedroom to express what they had shared without the need for words.

Sex with Gregory mirrored the way Relena felt about him. It was nice, and loving, though different than her encounters had been with Heero. With Gregory it was an act of expression that was pleasurable and physically satisfying in the usual way. It was something she could rationalize doing or not doing depending on the variables of the place and time and her current mood. With Heero, the for whom she had pined and nurtured for years before they even touched, it had only taken her yielding once or twice before wanting him had become almost a compulsion; a physical need to be close, a passion for this particular person that even the fulfillment of the sexual act couldn't quench. But she never spoke of Heero to Gregory, and did her best to banish him from her own thoughts. Being with Gregory made her appreciate how deeply her passion ran for Heero, but being with Gregory also clued her in to what else she had been missing in a relationship.

After only a few weeks of being a real girlfriend, Relena understood some of Heero's trepidation about not being able to live up to romantic standards. Gregory was nearly perfect in the degree of his thoughtfulness and attention. Flowers arrived frequently at her office, candles set a mood in the bedroom, occasional presents were of her taste and liking, outings were frequent and fun, and he was always more than kind to her. Relena also noticed quickly that the feelings Gregory had for her were absent the guesswork that defined her understanding of Heero's moods and feelings. Gregory was an open book, eloquent and vocal, a vigilant communicator like herself. He was always accessible when she needed him and always willing to humor her in her weakest states. He was certainly more social and extroverted than Heero had ever dreamed of being, and not only was he content to attend various social functions with her, but in his company Relena was invited to even more gatherings than she had previously been privy too. As a result, her public approval increased.

It was the affluent, high profile, extremely ambitious love affair her parents had always dreamed for her, the life that she had been bred to live. It was structured, it was neat, it was perfect and it was pleasant.

After six months she grew tired of it.

At first she didn't understand what was happening. It wasn't that she was unhappy, or had anything to complain about, but she simply wasn't as stimulated as she felt she ought to be. In her relationship with Gregory Balen, Relena's happiness was that of a wooden marionette, a puppet that moved smilingly but chillingly to a plotted, expected, beautifully decided, anticlimactic conclusion. In Gregory's company Relena wore the same mask that she wore to work. She was overwhelmingly diplomatic, devastatingly patient, cloyingly polite, nauseatingly refined, and utterly predictable. She didn't hate it because it was the side of herself she had chosen to show during a time when such qualities in people were needed, but it wasn't the secret part of her that she treasured most, the part she most desperately wanted to a person who loved her to understand and esteem.

With Gregory Balen, Relena Darilan was spoiled and bored. In short, she was the person she had been before she met Heero.

As Gregory's girlfriend, Relena wasn't the girl who had stood up to the murderous sights of Wing Gundam at St. Gabrielle's and demanded to know why Heero wouldn't take her life the way Lady Une had taken her father's, or the girl who had walked on stage in front of her enemies and verbally blasted the Romafeller Foundation for its insipid blindness, threatening the security they assumed was rightfully theirs through money and tradition. She wasn't remotely the girl she had been when Noin called her a reckless, the girl she begged to show more restraint and exercise more caution. She wasn't the girl who had thrown herself headfirst into a war—albeit, a political battle zone as best befitted her resources and experience—for the sake of a boy who had made her feel more in a few earth-shattering seconds than anyone she had ever known.

Despite all of that, it was still a surprise, and even a shock, when Gregory was the one to break up with her.

They were in the kitchen at his home, making tea for two after she returned from a conference meeting late at night, when she sensed his disgruntlement and asked—politely—to know what was bothering him. He began by evading, talking about stress at work and trouble with his father. She listened, but didn't respond, and after a moment of awkward silence he told her that he was frustrated because she was never around. She was too busy, he said, too busy with work. She was often gone for a week or more at a time, sometimes twice in a month, and she rarely had more than a few hours of downtime for the two of them even when she was at home. She had to go to bed late and get up early and she was always tired. Then she refused to complain, or be angry, or even talk about anything that upset her. On some days, she hardly seemed to smile. For someone so young, so beautiful, so rich and so powerful, she didn't seem to be enjoying life, or at least not with him. Why, he asked, did she put more energy into her work than she did the people she loved?

She asked him, calmly and politely, what she should be expected to do when her work was sometimes all that gave hope and strength to a world so recently damaged by war, when it was all that was keeping _her_ motivated to keep living and believing in the peaceful world she had worked so hard to create and now to maintain. Of course Gregory had no answers, but that didn't change his discontent, his desire for someone—he explained—who wasn't so serious all the time, someone who was more normal, more emotionally available, and less _controlling_.

It took her days to process what he meant. In all of her memory she had always felt a little isolated compared to other people, always aloof and deeply introverted, quiet and empathetically reflective, bred to behave a certain way and even to feel a certain way. She rarely spoke about her own feelings unless it was in a passion, but was always quick to dissect, process and categorize those of other people. She supposed that she did bully people on a daily basis, for she was intimidating at her age in her position, and she sometimes used that as leverage to force people to accept the vital understanding that people had different ways of thinking. She supposed she was too good at politics not to be somewhat manipulative if not downright overpowering when she wanted to press a point, and indeed, when she did inspections or residing over meetings it wasn't uncommon for her to give flat out orders under the guise of recommendation.

It took hours of trying to reconcile with Gregory over the phone before she realized that reconciliation was not only improbable, but not something either of them really wanted. After all, he was right. She was someone who defined her existence by her work. Into it she poured all of her energy, and indeed, all of her personality, and came out of it as something barely recognizable as human.

It was then—for some inexplicable reason—that Relena's heart began to ache, not from the pain of her breakup, but with a deeper emptiness that she feared would never be fulfilled. In the darkest part of the night, when sleep would not come through the churning of her thoughts, she wept where no one could see her and cried Heero's name into her pillow.

At work she was cool and collected, though absent of the recent glow that being in a relationship had put into her face. Her depression only increased as the days went by and all she could think about was the idea of herself as a woman in power, someone who had somehow become everything she fought against, a figure of power who was intimidating, controlling and exacting, an inhuman icon masquerading moral and diplomatic perfection that no one could reasonably live up to. She knew that there were people in the world who hated her, not for the work she did, but as a representative of that work, and even those who approved of her didn't think her as a person, or even see her as a person. It was actually imperative that no one looked too closely at the Vice Foreign Minister. She had become a diplomat at sixteen, and that had only been possible as long as what most people saw was a legacy of peace rather than a young girl. Twenty four wasn't a vast improvement. She couldn't blame anyone for scorning her.

As the days passed, the loneliness of her life and the pain of her identity swelled to a point where she felt ill and one day even fell half-asleep while standing up by the window in her office. She hadn't slept much in over a week, and the endless long days and mounting stress was getting to her. By midday she felt slightly feverish and dizzy, though she was not sick, and at length decided to go home early on the recommendation of an older gentleman in her department who noticed that she looked rather pale and drawn.

She left with the full intention of taking a long nap and then doing some work from her home office that needed to be done despite her fatigue, but on the way home, after a few carefully placed phone calls made in a state of overwhelmed exhaustion and desperation, she had her driver take her to the outskirts of the city instead. She couldn't explain how it happened, or what she had been thinking, and indeed, she didn't try to think.

It was nearing twilight when she pulled up to an apartment complex on a hill in a poorer district of the city than she was used to venturing, but she knew she was in the right place just by the feeling that came over her the moment she stepped out of the car. Her driver was surprised when she told him to go home, that she would call if she needed a ride, but that she had some business to do here that might take some time.

Relena stood for awhile on the curb, drained physically and emotionally to the point of collapse, almost senseless to what she was doing and feeling, and yet knowing that more than anything else, she just needed to see him.

After her driver left, it began to rain.

* * *

Heero was surprised to hear a knock at his door on a weekday afternoon. He had been sitting at his table comparing newspapers to see what sorts of things were being covered by the press in which areas when a soft, but urgent rapping at his door interrupted his thoughts. The apartment he lived in was not highly secure. Anybody could come right up to any floor and there wasn't even an indoor hallway to give the illusion of a contained structure. Heero wasn't worried about anybody who would ask to be let in by knocking, but it was raining and he had told no one that that he resided at this address.

He was surprised to see Relena standing on his doorstep with a sheet of rain sleeting behind her, her hair and face sprinkled with drops that glistened on her forehead and cheeks. He noted by her clothes, also splattered with rain, that she had come here from work. She wore expensive business attire, a full pants suit with a ruffled blouse and those silk scarves she sometimes wore around her neck and tucked into the lapels of her coat to add color to the otherwise earthy tones. The pantsuit was cream-colored, but the scarves were blue green like her eyes. It was her eyes that held his attention.

They stared at him with a steely gaze that was half defiance and half petition, eyes that reminded him of the glass shards of a mirror, reflecting something of himself back at him. He stepped back silently to let her in.

"How did you know I was here?" He shut the door behind her when she crossed the threshold, but she didn't move out of the entryway or look in his direction as he passed her, her arms hanging at her sides as her eyes drifted around the room.

"I'm resourceful when I need to be," she said vaguely, and refused to look at him, staring instead at the wooden floor under her feet and the fire sizzling low in his hearth. "It's warm in here," she added quietly, and the distance in her voice that caught his attention.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, stepping around her to lead the way into the living room. "Water? Wine?"

"No," she said. If she was surprised by his hospitality, she didn't show it. She stood completely still, her shoulders back and her spine erect, but her eyes seemingly unfocused despite their intensity. It was hard to tell in the firelight, but he thought she looked rather pale.

"Relena?"

She looked at him then, and when she did he felt the electricity in her gaze, a sizzle that missed its mark by a hair as Relena flushed and dragged her eyes away from his face. There was something strange about her posture. On closer observation, he realized that she was shivering, though it wasn't cold with the fire going and only splatters of rainwater on her coat and skin. And yet he could visibly see the tremors passing through her body.

"I should go," she said suddenly, and he realized that he had been staring at her in silence for almost a full minute. "I shouldn't have intruded upon you here. I'm sorry." Just like that, she turned swiftly for the door.

He moved before he thought, intercepting her before she could touch the handle even though he had three times the distance to cover. He locked the door from the inside, turning the bolt with one hand and grabbing Relena's wrist with the other. They were so close he could smell her perfume, a heavenly scent that reminded him of her in ways that he shouldn't have been thinking about at that moment. Images of the two of them together passed through his mind in a flash, and it was an effort not to pull her close and run a hand down her back just to feel her curves. She didn't struggle in his grip, and even though she was mere inches away from him, she was careful not to touch any part of his body, not even a brush of clothing. Her head hung between them, and she refused to meet his eyes.

"What's wrong?" he demanded.

He knew something was wrong. He could sense it in her as plainly he could see the pain in her face. At first she didn't answer, taking measured breaths as she stared at the ground between their feet, but slowly she raised her head. If she had been trying to hide her face a moment ago because of emotion, she had no need to now. Her expression was as flat and as blank as a board, a mask of ice that was as cold and serene as her voice.

"Gregory and I broke up," she said tonelessly. "A few days ago." She looked away, managing to shrug a little even with her wrist ensnared in his grip, almost as if he wasn't there. "I thought you might have heard, but it's not important. I'm not really upset about it. I've just been thinking lately and…. I…" She turned to look at him, blue-green eyes melting soft like the soothing waters of a lagoon, "I wanted to see you." As soon as their eyes met, she looked hastily away, dropping her gaze to shadowed crease on the far side of the room where the wall met the floor. "That's all," she whispered.

The mention of Gregory sent a swift and sudden stab of jealousy through Heero, an emotion he ignored as resolutely as he ignored the sense of competition he had felt whenever he saw or heard word of that other man over the intervening months since he had last seen Relena. He ignored it because it was a weak human emotion, an instinct he could manage as long as he could control his emotional involvement in the situation. As for Relena, he didn't know what she wanted. He didn't think it was comfort about the breakup, because she wasn't likely to find that in him despite his wish for her happiness, and he didn't think it was to ask him to renew the relationship they had had before Gregory came into her life because it would have been ludicrous to think she would want to go back to casual sex without strings at a time like this. The only thing he was sure of was that she didn't seem quite herself.

"Why won't you look at me?" he ventured in a straightforward, almost commanding tone of voice.

"I…" She closed her eyes, her muscles tightening with a tension he rarely saw in her, as if she was struggling to hold something in or keep something back and wasn't sure if she was strong enough to manage it. But he had forced it, and when she looked up at him again, something seemed to crack. "Heero," she said, almost to herself, and her hand reached up to touch his cheek. Before he knew it, she was rising on the balls of her feet, her fingers tangling in his hair, trapping him close as the upward surge of her body brought her lips to his. He barely managed to pull away after the slightest brush, staring at her with wide eyes. "I miss you." She said it almost like it was an apology.

There were shadows under her eyes, evidence of fatigue so great he almost reached out to steady her, as if he sensed she was about to fall.

"Come on," he said, and the rumble that caught in his throat seemed to propel her into movement.

She didn't protest as he led her by the wrist to his bedroom, pushing open the door and guiding her to the bed. He deposited her onto the edge of the mattress merely by releasing her wrist, for as soon as he let go she fell, landing with a little bounce appropriate to her weight. He lowered the blinds as she stared at the bare walls around his room, straight-backed and proper, her hands folded demurely in her lap. She was awake enough that she knew she was tired, and tired enough not to realize that she was trying too hard to seem as if she were more awake.

"Take off your shoes and lie down," he ordered. He dimmed the lamp as she complied, leaving it on, but muting the light to a soothing, moon-yellow glow.

"You don't want me?" she asked as she removed her coat. He turned to look at her out of the corner of his eye as she slipped between the black, cotton sheets of his bed. She had only removed her coat, but her blouse underneath was sleeveless and thin enough to show the outline of her bra against her skin, though even that was somewhat obscured by the scarf that still hung around her neck. He noticed the way the golden highlights of her hair and the pale beauty of her skin seemed to shine in contrast to his black sheets, and his eyes lingered a moment on her body before he pulled the comforter up under her chin.

"Heero?" she asked as he rose from the edge of the bed and began to pull away from her. "Do you think I'm controlling?"

The question caught him off guard. It was so ludicrous an idea he didn't know how to reply, and yet he sensed urgency in her tone, and the more he remained silent and reflective, the more he felt he understood what she meant. It explained, in part, why she had come here.

"You need to sleep," he said softly. "We'll talk when you're better rested."

She closed her eyes as he turned off the lights. He watched her for a few minutes in the partial darkness of the late afternoon, waiting until her features smoothed to softness and her breathing became more regular. He stayed until she turned over on her side, a lump in his bed that he wasn't sure what to do with and didn't know if he could help. He knew she was stressed out, overworked, emotionally drained and anxious. She needed rest, but beyond that he wasn't sure what he could do for her.

His eyes narrowed as he thought, and he found himself eyeing the scarves that hung loosely around her neck, the brightest point of color in the room.

She had been too strong for him—that other man.

TBC

* * *

Alas, it seems there will not be a lemon is _every_ chapter, but actually, the plot of this story (much like the beginning of this chapter) once I really get into it has a lot less to do with sex than is initially implied. But thelemons are fun! So I might as well cram in some goodies while I'm writing this tangled little love story. And after all, it _is_ a convenient way to get two reluctant people to share space and work some things out.

Food for thought: Amour means love affair, especially a secret one…but a secret from whom?

This chapter is going to be a two-parter of sorts, though all the chapters are connected. It's just that I meant this one to get to a certain place that it didn't get to and the more I struggled with finishing it, the more I feel that a little spacemight benecessary before I continue the scene. So please share your thoughts and let me know what you think so far so I can get the next one out with a clear conscience!

(sends bushels of love to all the loyal 1xR readers) --I think I will always adore this pairing.

Zapenstap


	5. Silk Scarves

For not-so-explicit sexual situations, this chapter is rated Mature and contains images such as you might find in an R-rated movie. The full chapters can be found at other locations. Please check my profile.

Amour

Chapter 5

By Zapenstap

Relena awoke to the rattle of rain against the window. She opened her eyes groggily, not remembering clearly where she was or how long she had been asleep. The dreams she had dreamt flittered through her mind in a dozen distorted and uncertain images, dreams that she couldn't remember past a flash of color and a sense of feeling. Her muscles were stiff and sore, cramped up from accumulated stress and the discomfort of sleeping in her clothes, her skin sweaty under the covers. She turned her head to the side slowly, her body heavy with sleep. As her cheek slowly sunk into the pillow, she gazed in bemusement at the locks of blonde-brown hair that spilled out from her eye line in a tangled mess on the black sheets of the bed.

Black sheets.

The covers slid to her waist as Relena sat bolt upright in bed.

Heero's bed.

"How do you feel?"

Heero stood by the door, drawing her eyes despite the unobtrusive way he inhabited space, watching her from the far side of the room with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression unreadable. She remembered him standing there when she fell asleep, fading into the shadows as he turned off the lights. She doubted he had been standing there for long. The lamp on the bedside nightstand was on again. She wondered if he had turned it on in order to wake her up.

She tossed back the covers, allowing trapped air to expel and cool, fresh air to circulate around her body. Her clothes clung to her skin, sticky with sweat. Her hair wrapped like wet seaweed around her neck and shoulders. She glanced around the room for a clock, but found none. There seemed to be little possessions of any kind in the room. "How long have I been asleep?" she asked in lieu of answering his question while she considered the answer.

"Four hours."

She couldn't help but look at him when he spoke, those dark, gravel-like tones striking a chord in her body that hummed with a gentle, but persuasive vibration. She looked at him, appraising the face and form of the gundam pilot, Heero Yuy, the straight, hard lines of his body's muscles and bones that softened only somewhat in his cheeks. When their eyes met, his sharpened gaze pierced her like a spear, but the puncture was pleasant in a way she couldn't describe, a stab that flooded her with liquid warmth. It has always been like that. Unafraid, she studied him. He had eyes like a starving snow leopard in a storm, eyes that looked at everything as either a means of survival or with passing disinterest. The way he looked at her was interested; she didn't understand what that meant, but she remembered why she had come here.

"I can't recall what I said to you," she said slowly. Dreams blurred with memory. Fatigue and stress had made her fevered, fatigue and stress that was partly physical and partly emotional, though she would never openly admit to the latter in front of Heero. But then again, she didn't need to. He understood at a glance. She could feel it in the intensity of his eyes. Still, it wasn't the same as admitting it.

"You told me you broke up with that man."

That man. Did Heero refuse to give him a name because he didn't know it, because it didn't matter to him, or because it mattered more than he wanted it to? Could he possibly be jealous? Was that why he stared at her so piercingly? She couldn't let herself believe that was possible.

"That's true," she said, "but it's not why I came here. I'm…sorry I even bothered you enough to mention it. I probably shouldn't have come here at all, certainly not with my problems. I don't expect you to be in any way accountable for them, or for me."

Heero ignored her apology as if she had hadn't said it. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, and smiled to cover up her embarrassment that she had even given away that something someone else said even affected her so much. "Nothing important. Nothing that wasn't true."

True, but crippling. In relinquishing her relationship with Gregory Balen—yet another failed attempt at love—she came to see herself the way others saw her. She saw from another's eyes how difficult she was, and how desolate, like a pale flower struggling to bloom out of concrete on a deserted sidewalk. The way she lived her life must be so bland and even incomprehensible to other people. The things she did and said—her zeal for paperwork and meetings and diplomacy—must seem stale up close and in person, and the more she tried to balance her passion with the nicety necessary to make herself heard, the drier and more isolated she became. From a distance, a far distance, she was admirable, but from up close she was all frills and no color, like a banner tied to a mountain top, visible to all and accessible to no one.

Except that there was Heero, who possessed a passion for living that was by necessity even more intense than her own, someone who—like herself—had given everything of himself to one path of existence, and who—like herself—knew of no other way to live. Every once and awhile she needed to see him just to keep going. If there was anyone in the world who might understand her, it was this boy, the one with eyes like titanium mirrors, the boy who was midway between a boy and a man, the boy who had both changed and saved her life, the boy she had come here just to see.

She still loved him, she knew, deep down. But loving Heero was like trying to scoop ripples out of a pond, and no matter how long she knelt by the waterside, she was never guaranteed that anything more than ripples would come of it. Heero had told her to her face that it was unlikely, and his reasons for not being able to stay near her were the same as her reasons for needing to see him.

He was watching her face now, and something in her expression must have crumpled because he moved from his position by the door to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. His proximity was both soothing and invigorating, the very weight of his body beside hers on the mattress causing a hint of pink to suffuse her skin from her cheeks to her toes.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He lifted a hand to her forehead, sweeping back her hair to feel her skin with the palm of his hand. "You're warm."

"I've been sleeping under the covers in my clothes," she said, though that was only partly the reason. "I'm not feverish." She wasn't in the sense of being sick.

"Would you rather I had undressed you?" he asked dryly.

She smiled; caught off guard and exhilarated a little by what she was sure was meant to be a joke. Was it possible they could joke now? "Maybe," she said, and he smiled. It was just a slight curve of the lips at the corner of his mouth, but it was the light in his eyes that captivated her. She became lost staring at them. When he looked at her like that, so kindly, his lashes seemed to jump out in relief to the cold focus of his penetrating stare; he had beautiful eyes, especially when they were softened. She could have spoken, could have filled in the gaps of conversation with the unnecessary small talk or light banter she employed so well in any situation where it was required, but she didn't. Instead she sat in silence, taking in the comfort of having his body near hers, his arms and elbows hovering near her chest and that shining, kind look in his eye.

After a moment, sobriety returned to his face, shadows slanting across his skin as he turned his head a little to the side. "I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be here," he said. "It's not safe."

"Are you saying I'm not safe with you?" she asked.

"That's not what I mean."

She only shook her head, not willing to venture into arguing over what he really meant. Nowhere was really safe. It didn't matter to her half so much as being close to him, whatever he claimed it might cost her if A and B happened over a time span of X and Y. Of course, she knew she couldn't stay forever, that eventually she would have to go, to leave the inside of these walls and reclaim the life that was so full of purpose and so necessary to the existence of them both, just as he would, but she didn't want to think about that right now. Compared to the way she felt around Heero, it was a life lived empty of feeling.

Heero was looking at her as if waiting for her to say something. When she remained silent he spoke, his words seemingly carefully chosen, and not entirely unexpected.

"The path I have to live has already been decided," he said. It might have seemed a sudden statement, but she wasn't surprised. She couldn't explain where her understanding of the context for his words came from except that it seemed as if he had addressed a thought she hadn't voiced rather than one she had. It wasn't uncommon that they would sometimes think alike, or at least along the same line, though they often came to different conclusions.

"I don't expect you to do anything for me," she returned calmly. "I know you have a life to live and things to do that are more important than I am. I'm just selfish enough to wish I didn't have to leave here." She smiled a small, hopeless smile down at her hands, "or that you could come home with me."

"Nothing's changed," he told her in that same quiet, sobering voice with which he had said those words before. She nodded out of obligation.

Things had changed, whatever Heero maintained, but he wasn't lying or trying to deceive her. What he said was the truth in a way, in part because she had never really lost or successfully buried beyond retrieval the feelings she had always had for Heero; therefore, her feelings for him now were nothing new or unexpected. What's more, the situation hadn't changed, as the world was not safe, as they were not free to do as they liked, and as they were no closer to being together now than they had been in all the war-troubled years since she first met Heero. Also, Heero had not returned her feelings, or promised he would ever do so. But it was false too, because even if the situation was the same, and despite the heartbreak she had already endured, she wanted more now, or perhaps again, and was willing to want more without expecting anything to come of it.

"Relena," Heero whispered in a voice that was urgent and worried and almost pained. "We agreed about this. If you're feelings for me are causing you to be unhappy…"

"You're ability to read my emotions is uncanny," she interrupted, "but the way I feel about you is not what is making me unhappy. Four days ago, you weren't the only man in my life, you know. I found someone else, just like you said I should, and I stopped expecting you to love me and stay near me long before that, just like you said I must. But don't tell me to stop caring for you or to stop wanting to see you, because I can't do that. And I don't want to."

He shifted on the bed, reaching over her body with one of his arms and leaning forward just enough so that his body hovered over hers and he could look her directly in the eye. Or stare at her more likely; a grounding, stomach-dropping kind of stare. She hadn't said that the feeling she had for him was love, albeit a love long-denied and willfully suppressed, and considering how voraciously Heero had avoided hearing it in the past, it surprised her when his eyes seemed to ask for clarification. She gazed back without speaking, conscious suddenly of being in his bed with him sitting just inches away from her, his body hovering over hers as night fell over the city, a single light from a lamp burning on the nightstand and throwing back the shadows from around the bed like curtains. With his eyes focused on her like twin stones of hardened sapphire, Heero looked terribly strong, and somewhat vulnerable, and irresistibly desirable.

"Relena…" he began imploringly, no doubt to tell her to stop caring for him, to stop worrying for him, to let him lead the life that he had to lead without strings to hold him back. But though she didn't move or speak to cut him off, he didn't finish making the request.

Her hand moved on the coverlet, reaching out just enough to touch the arm that had crossed over her body. Without severing their gaze, she wrapped her fingers around his wrist. It was such a light touch, barely perceivable, yet the sensation of contact, the sudden connection of his skin under the pads of her fingers, sparked a little flame in her breast that warmed her throughout her entire body. It was an effort not to draw in a little air to cool off, and harder still not to let it show in her eyes.

"I thought you were going to move on," he said. A harsh shower of rain pelted ferociously against the glass on the side of the room to punctuate the words.

"I tried."

His jaw locked and his eyes sharpened, nailing her to the pillow with a gaze as hard as steel and twice as deadly. "Try again." His glare was so fierce and so determined it ought to have overpowered her, but even lying half under him, she wasn't afraid, and she didn't believe him. There was a struggle in his expression, as if the hardness in his face was more like armor for himself than a weapon to use against her. It seemed to take everything he had to say those two words, as if he loathed the sound of them and their implicit meaning.

"Even when I was with him," she said, "I still wanted you."

"Relena…" The sound was uttered from somewhere deep in Heero's throat.

"I met another man, spent time with him, loved him, slept with him…" Nothing in Heero's face visibly changed, but she thought he might have tensed. "And still I can't help but think that something here, something between you and me, is more valuable than anything I would ever find elsewhere." They stared at each other, stubborn and defiant, equally matched in completely different arenas of power, neither yielding to the other's demands, both believing fully and completely that what they wanted and what they asked for was for as much the other's good as their own. "I used to think you were a prince from the stars," she said, "but even if you are just a lost soldier bereft of war, I don't think it makes any difference. We're connected. I can feel it deep inside, somewhere only you can reach."

"The things you say…" Heero growled. "No one says things like that."

She knew exactly what he meant. Her ability to communicate had its ups and downs. She could utter words that struck the cord of truth but made no immediate sense. She could also talk long and lengthy about matters that circled the truth but never stabbed it. She could use words to explain events, analyze emotions, change minds and alter destinies. It was the unexpected birthright of a girl who had spent the majority of her childhood in refined and observational silence. "Do you find me controlling, Heero?"

Heero's hands closed over her wrists, pinning her to the bed. He hovered closer to her now, close enough that she could smell the scent of his skin and the clean cotton smell of his clothes. For a moment she was frightened, not because she was trapped, but because of the feelings she harbored for Heero, the feelings she had buried and lashed down to keep her heart safe, the feelings which had only begun to unravel under her careful control, those feelings suddenly came loose and hit her hard in the stomach and all along her nerves. The feeling inside her breast was like tongues of flame flailing in her heart and body. She yearned to wrap her arms around Heero's neck and back and pull him down on top of her, to feel his lips on her skin, his skin on her skin, his body pressing into hers, but he had her wrists pinned firmly under his fingers and in her state of emotional upheaval she could barely breathe.

"Is that what he said to you?" Heero asked in an intense voice that was both calm and demanding. "What else did he say?"

She replied calmly, as if the question were about the weather, and tried to ignore equally the frigid cold with which Gregory's truth had blasted her heart and the steadily climbing inferno that was her reaction to Heero Yuy. "That my disposition is unnatural, that I'm too intense, that I work too hard, that I don't know how to let go of anything." She was hardly aware of the deepening intensity that possessed Heero's eyes as they locked onto hers. He didn't seem surprised. It was almost like he expected it. In a way, Heero's acceptance of it made her angry in a way that Gregory had never made her angry. She stared back, refusing to yield, ice blue eyes meeting cold blue steel with an impact that jarred them both. Someone else looking at them might have thought the two of them meant to tear each other apart with the ferocity of their gazes, but it didn't feel that way to Relena. It felt…invigorating. Even as her mind and body fought to equalize her position, her insides dissolved under that gaze, her feelings liquefying into molten emotion that pulled the rest of her down like being caught in an undertow.

It was a surprise when Heero leaned forward, still holding her wrists down, his face and chest barely suspended above her own. He didn't seem to realize he was so close, and for a moment she thought that he was going to kiss her. His lips were a mere fraction away from touching hers, but he stopped just before they grazed her mouth. She saw his eyes widen slightly, felt pressure on her wrists as his grip tightened, heard him breathe more deeply. She thought she could hear his heart beating, like thunder in a hollow sky. He seemed slightly surprised, staring at her as if she were a strange creature from an unknown place, and the more he stared the more she felt like she was going to melt.

"I'm on fire," she implored, and as if the words had been the catch on the floodgate it was suddenly all she could think about. A hint of desperation coated her voice as she struggled in Heero's grip. "Heero…"

All doubt and surprise seemed to leave him in an instant, replaced by what she could only describe as single-minded attention and control through a decision swiftly made and executed. Before she knew it, he had straddled her, his knees settling to either side of her hips, trapping her lower body with his. The look in his eye was concentrated resolution, but he almost seemed to be ignoring her completely on the surface, at least for the moment, focused on her wrists instead of her face, her hands still caught firmly under his fingers. Without speaking, he leaned forward and up until she could no longer see his face without straining her neck to look directly above her.

"What are you….?" She mumbled and then trailed off in a gasp as he pulled her wrists above her head. She struggled under him, her legs and arms and torso moving to break free of where he held her down with the position of his knees and thighs. She trusted Heero, but it was daunting to be manhandled this way, especially when she was trapped and desperate and uncertain what he was going to do or why. She couldn't pull free, no matter how she fought. Heero managed to engulf both of her wrists in one hand, and with the strength in one arm forced them against the headboard above her head. With his other hand he pulled the green-blue scarf from her neck with a sharp jerk. She gasped again, struggling futilely on his grip, her eyes wide as she arched her back and tried to pull her wrists free from his hands. "Heero!" She wanted an explanation, or for him to ease up on the torturous grip with which he had seized her arms, but he only let her struggle while he wrapped the green silk scarf around her wrists and then looped the material around the headboard of his bed, tying and securing the knot tightly so that both her wrists were trapped above her head and her body secured in place however she kicked and tugged at the silken bonds.

"Hold still," he said calmly. "Just relax."

She stopped struggling, her heart beating loudly in her chest now, her eyes darting around the room as they crossed over her view of Heero's chest and torso. She felt his hands slide in a gentle caress from her wrists to her elbows, and then from her elbows to her shoulders, and from her shoulders to her breasts. She knew she was breathing loudly, though she didn't remember when it had started, and her body reacted to Heero's touch as steel to flint.

Heero's hands slid over her body as he lowered his head and nipped lightly at her neck with his teeth, persisting to lick and bite until she stopped moving completely and almost forgot about her confinement. His lips felt cool on her heated skin, and she turned her head aside enough to allow him to trail kisses from her shoulder to her ear. She was aware of every aspect of him, attentive to the slightest touch of his hair against her skin, his hands molding her breasts, and the pressure of his thighs around her hips. The feeling of his breath in her ear caused her whole body to tremble. "If you want me to stop," he said quietly into her ear as she began to breathe heavily, shivering beneath his breath and even more by his words.

"Don't stop," she breathed, and closed her eyes.

In the course of their copulation, pleasure overwhelmed all other sensation, not just the pleasure derived from sex but because it was Heero, because only Heero could consume her to the point where she couldn't see, think or feel past the union of their bodies. Even tied up, she wouldn't yield entirely to his demand, or wouldn't sacrifice herself to yield to it anyway, and toward the end, his groans and cries mingled with hers. Just as her body began to break at the threshold of release, Heero reached up over her head to apply pressure to her wrists and abruptly pulled at something just above her head.

The silk scarves unraveled, the knot came free, and Relena's arms came to rest possessively and lovingly around Heero's back just moments before her release. She muffled a cry into his neck and clung to his shoulders, her arms wrapped as far around the smooth, sweaty skin of back as they would go, pulling him close to her chest as they both finished and lay still.

In the afterglow, Relena found herself kissing and touching Heero wherever she could reach, her lips laying claim neck and shoulders, her hands rubbing and massaging his back as if cherishing something beyond precious. Her arms ached definitively now that they were free, but she didn't care so much for that as she suddenly treasured more than she ever had before what they were able to hold onto.

Heero stirred in her embrace, and she let go as he struggled to raise himself onto his elbows. She felt wide awake, tingling from her toes to the top of her head, blessedly aware of every scent and sound around her, and especially of Heero's form sprawled out and nestled in the crooks of her body that seemed made to fit to his shape. He looked tired, though contentedly so, and shook his head with a satisfied smile as if to clear away stars.

"It wasn't my intention to do this when you came here," he told her ruefully.

She looked at him without speaking for a moment. "Do you really not feel anything for me, Heero?"

It was strange. Her need to know wasn't the same as it once had been. She didn't expect a different answer than the one she had always received, but there was something about asking the question, honestly, that was important to her, even if the answer wasn't one that she liked best. If it came honestly from Heero it would be enough. She really felt content to let things remain the way they had to be, to just allow whatever was possible to continue as it could under the circumstances. Even if nothing came of it, she wouldn't be crushed, because it wasn't a future result that she was searching for right now, but a present happiness.

Heero touched her face, brushing hair away from her eyes and pushing it back to the far side of her cheek. His smile was gone now, his expression neither exuberant nor melancholy. There was almost a sense of duty with the way he looked at her, and a weighing of thoughts and feelings that she didn't want to interrupt with words.

"I wouldn't say I don't feel anything," he said at last.

Her lips parted with surprise, a sudden burst of hope flaring in her breast at this unexpected announcement. She half sat up, touching his face with her hands and looking into his eyes to see if he was serious. Heero's eyes widened as he saw her expression, and though he pulled out of her grip, he leaned in closer to her once he was free, holding her head from behind and looking into her eyes the way he once had years ago when he had tried to convince her that it was necessary for him to do something she didn't want to hear or understand at the time he felt he had to do it. "I don't love you, Relena. No, don't look away. Listen to me. I can't love you the way things are right now even if I knew how. I know you don't want to believe it, but it wouldn't be the best thing for either of us."

"How can you say that?" she said. "I know you don't love me because if you felt what I do, you couldn't possibly say that. It's not even that it upsets me anymore, not after everything we've been through and not knowing what our lives are like, but if you _do_ feel something, even if you've never expressed it with words, I'd like to know. What is it you feel?"

"I don't know," he said.

And she could see in the honesty of his expression that he really didn't.

"I'm happy when I'm with you," he told her stoically, "but that's not enough. There are a lot of reasons why I can't love you. I don't want to see you hurt. Accept that for now."

"That doesn't explain anything," she said stubbornly. "It doesn't make sense to say that you're worried about breaking my heart. I understand that love can be painful if it doesn't work out—I learned it first from you—but it can also be beautiful. Forgive me if I'm mistaken, but what are you so afraid of that you won't try?"

"I don't know how to do any of this," he said quietly, and pulled himself out of her arms, moving to sit beside her with his back to the headboard and his knees propped up in front of him, his feet flat on the mattress. "I can't be there for you. I'm never in your vicinity more than a few days or weeks at a time. And I'm not just worried about your heart."

"What do you mean?" she said slowly.

"Relena," he said, and a touch of gravel entered his voice, the warning tone she was used to hearing from him when he felt he had to convey something she ought to already understand, "The war is over, but not everyone is satisfied with the way the world is now. Not everyone accepts peace."

"I know," she said. "What do you think I work so hard for? What does that have to do with us anyway?"

"You're necessary to keep things moving in the right direction, but we're not going to have a utopian society no matter how hard you work. There will always be people who turn first to weapons, and those who will seek to earn a profit by providing those weapons to those who have the means to pay for them."

"And that's what you've been working to prevent," she said. "I know that too. We share the same goal, and the only way to be sure that the peace is maintained is if we both work for it the way we best know how. But how does working together keep us apart?"

"I'm a distraction," he told her. "And beyond that, I'm a target as much as you are, perhaps more so if you take into account that you're in the public eye. The only way I can be sure to myself alive is to keep my distance. We can't afford for anyone to find out about us."

"I don't see that as something that would worry you."

"It doesn't. But I worry what would happen to you if our relationship—however we define it—is discovered by the wrong people."

She understood then, though her mind and body railed against the idea that such a precaution should be necessary ten years after the war's end, or twenty if it came to it, but she also knew that Heero's understanding of how dangerous matters could become in circumstantial situations was never far off the mark. She suddenly felt the full vulnerability of being naked in Heero's bed, her feet entwined with the black cover sheet she had stripped off her body along with the comforter after she had first awoken. Heero regarded her silently, watching for some change in her expression to signal acceptance.

"I can't agree," she said stubbornly, glaring at the bare walls of the room, wondering for how brief a time Heero planned to stay here and the longest amount of time he had ever stayed anywhere.

"Relena…" Heero began.

"Don't," she said, and couldn't hold back a glimmer of angry tears. "Don't be so kind. I don't want that kind of protection. You don't have to protect me like that. I'd rather you just…"

"I'm leaving for space tomorrow," he told her. "I don't know for certain when I'll be back. If you're keeping up with the news, you probably know where I'm headed."

It was one hard truth after the next. He was leaving. He was _always_ leaving. She could probably narrow his destination down to a few places and confirm with a little research, but she didn't give him an affirmative because there was no reason other than her peace of mind to know where he was going. But she wouldn't give up. She couldn't give up on this.

"Even if you're often away," she said, "and even if it's dangerous…" She focused her eyes straight ahead of her, determined to make the situation work for her whatever the cost. "I don't care so long as I feel the way I feel when I'm with you, or even thinking of you. Whatever happens, even though you don't love me, and even if you don't want to try, or are afraid to, I'll…"

"I don't know how to love you," he said, and she realized that—for him—this was the hardest and most difficult barrier to overcome. There were no instructions, no training, no safety nets if he should fail, and he didn't want to hurt her by failing. She didn't quite understand Heero's present concept of love. She knew a little about his past, enough to know that it was possible he had never seen an example of what she wanted before it was too late to internalize it, and that it was possible that love wasn't a feeling and a knowledge he could manufacture just by watching. But even so, she didn't want to give up. There had to be some aspect of love that was instinctual, and the rest he could learn, if he was willing to try, accepting the possibility that he might fail, and if she was willing to be patient enough with everything else that might get in the way. It was truly a daunting aspiration, riddled with unhappiness and frustration however she looked at it, but even still… She opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't say you'll wait," he interrupted before she could say anything. "You would be wasting your heart and your life on me if you waited."

"I think you're underestimating yourself," she said. "I know it's strange, but it's not so strange that you couldn't do it, all of it, if you had to, if you wanted it enough."

"It's not possible right now. Promise me you won't wait."

She wanted to be stubborn. She wanted to tell him she would wait forever no matter what he said, but what if she made that promise and somewhere down the road she wanted to take it back? "I can't predict the future," she said rationally. "So I won't say that I'll wait if that makes it easier for you, but I'm not willing to give up so easily either. I will do everything I need to do to make sure that I am happy, and if somewhere down the road you no longer make me happy, then I will cross that bridge when I come to it, but for now…" She turned to smile at him, "for now I want to keep seeing you, whenever you can, come what may, because right now it's being near you that makes me happy."

He touched her face, rubbing the side of his thumb along her cheek as he looked into her eyes. "Whatever makes you happiest," he said.

Feeling that she had taken communication as far as it could go tonight, she changed topics. "Your mission to space," she said. "Is it dangerous?"

"It depends partly on what I find."

"So you're gathering information," she said, and didn't expect a response. "If anything happens, you should contact my brother."

"We won't be in the same vicinity. If anything does happen, it would be safer for me to return to Earth. Sally Po knows what I'm up to. If I'm gone too long and you become nervous, you can contact her about it."

She was thrown by his thoughtfulness, so much so that she almost asked again if he was sure, really sure, that he didn't know what she wanted. But she didn't want to spoil what they already had, and she knew they both needed some time to think and accept what had changed already. "Thank you," was all she said.

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and when he pulled away his eyes shimmered again like jewels. "I'll be as careful as I can be. I don't want to die, Relena."

She smiled at him. She smiled because it was almost like saying he had something to live for, not something that was good for the world like risking his life to keep the peace, but something personal for himself, and even if being with her wasn't what he meant, she could pretend that it was at least partly because he wanted to come back to her, even if it was just for a few more hours in her arms.

"Relena?"

She blinked. "What?"

"You're strong, not controlling."

She didn't say anything, but she didn't need to. Instead, she just smiled. She had forgotten her concern with that in the midst of everything else. With Heero, her flaws didn't feel as much like flaws, or at least they were not the sort of flaws that scarred her soul. The parts of her that were weakest seemed stronger, better, and more forgivable. It was something she had always felt but could never explain, and it had something to do with the ways they were alike, and also the ways they were different.

"I'll take you home now," he said quietly.

She nodded.

TBC

Author's Note: Ah, yes. Another chapter successfully completed (I hope) though it took way too long. I've been writing everyday nonstop and kept getting stuck and stuck and more stuck. I worked hard to make it come across right, choosing the right words, the length of each paragraph, sweating over the connectivity and dialogue, etc. My brain is tired. But I think I like the chapter now, and if readers like it too, then I'll know it was worth it. One of the more difficult things is trying to keep in mind what happened last chapter and what happens next chapter (and subsequent chapters because I've had this story fairly planned out for awhile) and trying not to jump ahead. I really appreciate all the feedback I've been getting, so thank you very much to anyone who has reviewed. I hope readers like what is happening in the story and where the story might be going. Predictions are always fun to read, as is hearing how people are interpreting what is happening presently and comments about what was specifically liked or not liked, etc. So…(makes adorable kitten-eyes)… please review? (sends love to all1xR readers)


	6. Flight Down

Author's note:

It's been a VERY long time since I've written anything. I must say I lost some confidence and some drive and getting back into the story took a long time and a lot of hard work, so I hope this chapter is as good as the chapters preceding it! I hope to ingrain myself back into the story with the same intensity that I had when I first started thinking it up. I've got the next chapter planned and (I think) the time to write it, so updates will continue more regularly after this last long hiatus. Please enjoy and please review. It is knowing that people wanted the story to continue that motivated me to get back into it. Thank you all very very much for being patient and encouraging. I read and reread everything you say!

Amour

Chapter 6

By Zapenstap

It was cold as ice in the cockpit, and the insulation in Heero's space suit didn't stop him from feeling the chill. Even the ever-fiery entry into Earth's atmosphere from space hadn't warmed him much. He adjusted the dials to account for the gradual change in temperature and resistance at his descent and scanned the cloud cover below him. He expected to break out over the water and be able to make a landing at the old military space port—now run by the Preventors and funded by the government—just tens of miles outside the city where Relena lived. He supposed he chose the place deliberately because she was near, but he tried not to think about why. Instead, he concentrated on the moment. At this hour in the morning before dawn, with a little luck, he wouldn't be seen.

He had spent the last five months in space and the two last days doing what had probably been his most dangerous mission in years.

For awhile now there had been some unsettling rumors; his missions had confirmed the truth of most of it. They were looking for him.

At 3:20 AM he broke cloud cover over dark water, traveling at high velocity under the dull glow of a yellow moon, the silver wings of the space jet smothered in sooty darkness. It wasn't the same as Wing—no craft ever could be—but he harbored some affection for all planes; there was just something thrilling about the speed and freedom of the sky. A machine like this was sleek and graceful; a silver bird. Flight into Earth would have been better in sunlight, when the whole world looked like a map and everything in the sky glistened, but he had to be careful. There was no telling exactly how far things were spread, or if there was someone on the alert even now for a single-pilot space jet entering Earth's atmosphere.

There was a search underway by two, possibly three, terrorist organizations that were usually in competition, the most prominent of which called itself Bright Star and operated in small scattered factions, mostly in Space but likely on Earth as well. The search was for a gundam pilot—or information a gundam pilot could be forced to provide if caught—concerning the construction, maintenance and operation of space craft made from gundamian alloy. As it turned out, they were interested in building weapons other than mobile suits, which themselves were highly conspicuous, but planned to build something with controls similar to the system built into all the gundams, even the Tallgeese. What it was they wanted to make exactly was unknown…or had been until he saw the blue prints.

Which gundam pilot didn't seem to matter, which put Heero at risk among five others. Thankfully, the communications made between the terrorist groups had leaked the intelligence to Preventor spies and filtered to all the concerned parties. Heero had communicated with all of the pilots, including Zechs, sometime in the last few months. Before going to space he had a conference with Wufei confirming the probability of the most disconcerting rumors and hammered out a contingency plan with the Preventors assuming any of a dozen of the most likely scenarios resulted from the hunt. He wasn't averse to being a messenger to the others since he was traveling to space to check things out for himself anyway, so he agreed to pay the three currently in the Colonies a visit and send a message to Zechs, who was on an expedition to Mars and likely in no danger until he returned.

His contact with Quatre was brief, as Quatre was unlikely to be made a target. He was too prominent in the media and surrounded by too many bodyguards to make abducting him worth the effort. Getting to him wouldn't be impossible, but the after-effects would be explosive and high-profile. Bright Star and its affiliates were not interested in making political waves, or at least not yet. Their planning was in the beginning stages and they desired information gathered in secrecy. Nevertheless, warning Quatre was imperative, though he seemed more concerned for the safety of everyone else.

As a member of the Preventors, Wufei was just as protected. He wasn't as high profile, but the security surrounding him once the rumors were confirmed was intense and his disappearance would certainly be noticed and retaliation inevitable.

That made Duo, Trowa and himself the most likely to be at risk for abduction.

Trowa's whereabouts changed frequently, but he was not impossible to track down. He was good at hiding and disappearing if he suspected trouble. He could also fit in anywhere, and somehow managed to gain people's trust quickly. He had weaknesses though, which could be exploited if the terrorist groups were determined enough in that direction. Trowa was marginally concerned about Catherine, but didn't think Bright Star was desperate enough to target civilians, or knew enough about his relationships to members in his circus troupe to be sure taking such steps would even prove fruitful. Just in case, he told Heero he would keep his distance in public, and encourage rumors that he was hiding out rather than living with what he considered to be his family, and pretend unconcern for those he actually cared about. In his meeting with Heero, they discussed the likely timetable of events and agreed to prepare to go under but merely lay low for the time being, keeping communications open and frequent and adhering to the Preventor contingency plan established if anything should happen.

Heero visited Duo last, which was a bit of an awkward meeting after all the time that had gone by since he had seen any of the others. Duo had made himself scarce once the rumors started circulating, and he was disgruntled that Heero had managed to find him by tracking Hilde's whereabouts. Duo was deathly concerned for Hilde throughout their entire conversation, and kept glancing at where she slept on the couch, blissfully unaware of Heero's visit. What precisely their relationship was, Heero couldn't say, but it was certainly a close friendship and likely sexually intimate judging from Duo's conspicuous silence on the matter. He kept asking if Heero had anyone special in his life and what he should do to protect Hilde since their relationship was obvious to anyone who knew them. Heero didn't have any answers since that was precisely the kind of thing he was trying to avoid himself. Relena's name didn't come up, for which Heero was thankful; it meant there hadn't been any rumors of their tryst or Duo would have heard something and commented on it.

From there Heero's real work began. Reconnaissance took him from one end of occupied Space to the other, and after his final mission into a manufacturing sector operated by Bright Star affiliates, his worries magnified. From the blueprints he had managed to get a brief look at, it seemed that Bright Star wanted to make something equipped with guns that could walk, shoot and covert to a streamlined stealth plane. It was not as delicate as a mobile suit, and suited more for general destruction than combat, but it would be a valuable tool and weapon if ever completed. They needed information from a gundam pilot to actually build it correctly, especially if, as it seemed, they wanted to install the ZERO system in the cockpit. They had years of work ahead of them if they really wanted to do that, and Heero wished he had been able to see more to get a better time frame, but he had come close to discovery and was too disconcerted to stick around.

Then, when he returned to the hangar where he had stowed his space-air fighter jet to find one of the hangar's mechanics tinkering with it. The fellow had been just a young kid who seemingly wanted to be helpful, and Heero's cold stare had been enough to make him stammer an apology and retreat. Heero didn't like anyone touching his craft, and was running flight check when he was informed by the owner of the hangar that somehow his presence had been detected and there were people asking after him. They didn't seem to know who he was, only that someone had been looking around and had come to that hangar, but Heero didn't wait around to find out more.

Now, all around him it was quiet and still, the water below seeming motionless from a great height, merely textured by the wind that tossed the waves. On Earth, it was dark and he was weightless. There was nobody else in the air, not even a bird, and he would soon be landing. He had returned safely.

Would he visit her? It was an idle thought. He never seemed to know before it happened, as if the decision was arbitrary, at least in his head, and it was important to keep it that way. It had been months since he had last seen Relena, and there was no telling how things may have changed. He knew how she kept busy—there was a constant stream of intelligence in Space regarding the affairs of the ESUN—but he hadn't heard anything in particular about men in her life since Balen. It was unclear if her availability pleased him. The public was starting to talk about the Vice Foreign Minister's prospects of settling down and having a family, and he couldn't fit into that vision, not politically and not personally. Still, he found himself thinking about her, and found comfort, even pleasure, in those thoughts.

While making preparations to land, he was seized by a sudden chill.

Something was wrong with the plane.

He knew it intuitively. There was change of performance in the aircraft itself, and a moment later, the starboard overheat light came on. His memory cycled back, piecing together in scraps of insight what he had seen of what that young mechanic had been doing in the hangar. It seemed his young, innocent mechanic had some not-so-innocent affiliations. That explained how Bright Star knew that someone had been lurking around their facility.

He determined a course of action and calmly and quickly radioed the tower.

"Mayday. Mayday. This is 501."

"Roger that, 501. Switch button four."

Heero immediately changed frequencies and found himself talking to Sally Po. He could only figure that she had been at hand the moment he radioed in; he knew she was aware of his identity because he had told her his flight number and the barest sketch of his plans in keeping his promise to Relena. His surprise at hearing her was brief and did not enter his voice as he relayed in clear, simplified terms, his coordinates and situation. He was in sight of the landing strip, but his engines were overheating and he was not sure he had time to land before something blew.

"501, shut down the engines, nose down, and prepare to eject," Sally told him. "We'll pick you up in the water."

The fire light issued warning mid-transmission, followed almost immediately by the port engine overheat. Heero didn't have time to react. A small explosion rocked the plane, jarring his body from knees to shoulders. He slammed backward into the seat and he gritted his teeth in pain as the restraints cut into his skin and his breath left his body. His gloved hands clenching at the controls until they ached, but the plane failed to respond. The nose dipped in midair and the entire body of the plane began shaking as if it would shake apart.

"501! Do you copy?" The transmission was filled with static, but he heard it. "We can see you from the flight tower. You're on fire. Repeat. You're on fire! Eject!"

Heero surveyed with calm determination that the force of the explosion had wedged his seat in such a way that if he ejected, parts of his body might very well be left behind in the plane. "Tower, this is 501. The ejection mechanism is not an option, but I'm still going to bail. I'll see you in the water."

He didn't wait for a response. He had only seconds to act. Feeling neither hesitation nor fear, he punched the release for the canopy and felt it rip off above his head and spiral chaotically corner over corner away from the plane. The wind rushed in, and with it a roar like nothing that could be described under heaven. Careful of his position, he unbuckled the seatbelt that harnessed his body into the cockpit and braced himself for a jolt of air roughly comparable to the force of five tornados to pull him out of the plane.

He was seconds too slow. At the same time the seatbelt released, flames engulfed the cockpit.

He felt the heat on his back, followed by scorching flames searing him from behind. Seconds only and his body was propelled up and over the cockpit. He fell sideways, the force of the wind carrying him out and away from the plane in a mad spiral and then dropping him suddenly like a rock. A hollow boom sounded in his ears, and as he plummeted toward the sea he caught a snatch of the explosion from the corner of his eye, the orange light a dazzling firework in the night. A glimpse only and he released his parachute, the rip cord snapping the mechanism open and the unfolding cloth jerking him upward our of his dive in a gust of air.

As the water came up to meet him, he realized suddenly that he was on fire, and that the parachute was going to catch. There was nothing he could do. The last thing he saw before the lines connecting him to the parachute burnt through was the shape of the clouds overhead in the darkness, and then an image of Relena's face.

* * *

Relena couldn't sleep. She awoke before the dawn from nightmares she couldn't remember and lay awake unable to feel easy. She showered before first light graced the edges of the city and sat on the padded windowsill in her sitting room with a stack of papers she had meant to put off until Sunday.

She had trouble concentrating, and it showed in the sluggish pace at which she read and marked papers for necessary changes. Frequently she caught herself staring through the window, counting shapes in the dark clouds over the sea and staring at the image the window reflected back at herself: a young woman garbed in a white dress with loose sleeves, a belted waist and a flowing skirt. She was barefoot and her hair was loose around her shoulders, yet despite the airy casualness of her dress, her expression was severe enough for a funeral. She couldn't shake an unexplainable apprehension that something was wrong in the world.

It was still early when Candace Mae brought her the phone. She was surprised, and apprehensive, yet somehow she expected it.

"Who is it?" she asked her house manager, taking the receiver and setting down her pen.

"Emergency call," Candace Mae said in a soft, clipped voice. "From the hospital. It's a woman called Sally Po."

Relena stared and said nothing. The phone was cool and solid in her hand, but for a moment she couldn't feel it. She dismissed Candace Mae with a wave and the older woman glided away, closing the French doors and leaving Relena alone in her sitting room.

She raised the phone slowly to her ear and sat up straight, swallowing hard before she could speak. "This is Relena."

"Vice Foreign Minister Darilan? It's Sally Po. There's been an incident requiring your attention, in person preferably. Is it possible for you to make it to the military hospital today?"

Relena's throat closed, cutting off her wind and her ability to speak. She noticed abstractedly that for the last twenty pages of her report she had been making marks in blue instead of red. If Sally was calling…

"Vice Minister?"

"Yes," she said, and shook her head to clear it. "Yes. I can make it. Tell me, please. Is it…?"

She was cut off before she could utter the name that resounded in her head like a gong. "Thank you, Vice Minister. The sooner the better. We apologize to interfere in your work, but we think you had better be informed of this in person."

When Relena hung up, she didn't know what to do. Her chest felt tight and the rest of her seemed to flutter and shake. Sally had spoken so formally that the information must be sensitive, which meant it would be prudent to keep quiet about the details until she arrived. It had to be about Heero. She couldn't think of anything else that would require her attention in person. A call from the military hospital. Was he back from his mission then? Injured? What if he was dead? What if he was dying and time was an issue?

She had put on white slipper shoes and a coat and was calling for her driver before she could remember rising from her seat.

In the car she couldn't stop thinking and was in no mood for conversation. Her driver sensed it and said nothing. It had been many months since she had found herself on Heero's doorstep in the rain, and she not had any word from him since. She had been anxious, relieved, embarrassed, wistful and even angry now and again during his absence, but whatever thoughts she had had during that time evaporated in the sudden fear that he might dead or dying or grievously injured. She might not know what they were or had together, she might even want to keep her distance on a personal level, but if something had happened to him she wanted to be by his side. Was he at the hospital or were they just asking her to come there because it was a secure location and a good excuse to meet with her for some kind of debrief?

At the hospital, she left her driver with instructions to go where he pleased and wait for her to call, and nearly ran to the lobby. Her dress slippers were thin and the hospital tiles cold and hard under the soles of her feet. They made little impact, but even that small noise sounded hollow and desperate. She kept her white coat wrapped tight and closed to trap in warmth and pulled the wide hood over her head to conceal her face just in case she should draw attention. She did not speak or respond to the receptionist, but instead waited near the doors that led into the hospital as she had been instructed.

At length, Sally came to greet her, taking her hands in friendly affection and guiding her past the double doors and into the winding hallways of the small, military hospital. Once they were beyond the lobby, Sally led her into a small room to one side with one door and no windows. The walls were blank. There was a desk and two chairs and nothing else except a fake plant in the corner.

"This is secure," Sally said once the door was shut. "Relena…"

"Is it Heero?" she asked, throwing back her hood. "Is he alive? What happened?"

"He's alive," Sally assured her. "He's taken injury, but he's very much alive. He's currently resting. All together, he's pretty lucky. Or perhaps charmed. It's hard to tell with him."

When she felt air enter her lungs she breathed deeply. "What happened?"

"His aircraft caught fire and his back was scalded by the flames. The burns are deep second degree and have been treated, but they require at least a few days hospitalization. He should make a complete recovery with time and treatment, perhaps with some scarring, but he will need a place to stay where he can recover for a few weeks. It will help to have someone to look after him and continue his treatment from home. I know you and Heero haven't had much contact in the past few years, but I know you care for him and he did tell me to inform you if anything should happen to him. I thought that perhaps…"

"I can take care of him," Relena agreed without hesitation. She had listened with a mixture of relief and horror as Sally explained. She imagined what Heero would say and steeled herself, grimacing slightly and glaring at nothing. "He may not like it, though."

"Perhaps not, but he can't stay here for long and I doubt he has anywhere else to go. I know he trusts you, though he might worry for your safety. I'm not sure what happened to bring this about, but it would be safer to move him some place less conspicuous than a military hospital. Luckily, I don't think your connection to him from the past is known and I have made up some false records to explain some things if there is trouble."

"No one even knows I'm here except my driver and my house manager, but they can be trusted," Relena said quickly, wondering what Sally knew, if anything, about how intimate her connection with Heero had become in the last year. They had kept very quiet about their personal connection, even when they had been in the façade of a relationship years ago; it was likely she knew little or nothing about it. "I can arrange to come back as often as needed. I can take care of everything." She didn't know herself how to define her relationship with Heero now, but she was determined to see him comfortable and cared for, and she knew what he would do left to his own devices. "Can I see him?"

Sally nodded and opened the door for her.

She was led down a long hallway of clean tiles and blank walls, and the beat of her heart sound like a drum in the silence. Her face she had schooled to stillness, and her hands were easy at her sides as she walked, the perfect picture of composure. Sally turned her head to smile at her reassuringly when they reached what she assumed to be the door to Heero's room, and Relena lifted her chin bravely, fighting the weakness in her breast.

The room was small and sterile. The floor was slept clean and nothing adorned the walls, not even a medical chart or a clock. There was a window on one side of the room, but the glass was etched to obscure visibility in as well as out, and there were no blinds or curtains or even a shelf. The only furniture was the hospital bed with the IV stand beside it, and one chair by the wall.

Heero lay in the bed, an IV needle in the vein on the underside of his left arm and bandages wrapped around his bare torso. His hair was damp with sweat and his eyes were closed, but she knew he was awake.

Her horror at seeing him feverish and wrapped in bandages was mixed with her relief that he was alive and his injuries well-tended. She wondered if he felt pain from the burns under the bandages, if the skin was raw and blistered and aching, or if the nerve endings had been seared to nothing. She knew he wouldn't tell her either way, and likely wouldn't show pain if he felt it.

As Sally shut the door, Heero opened his eyes. He looked first at Sally and then at her, his expression a mask she couldn't read, but his eyes lingered on her.

"What is she doing here?" he asked Sally. There was no condescension in his tone that she could detect, but there was something challenging about the question, and Relena smiled a small, sad smile to hear it. If he was healthy enough to argue, surely he was all right.

"You're going to be staying with her," Sally said lightly, and ignored the way his eyes narrowed slightly. "We'll keep you here a few days to make sure you are healing properly and then we'll dismiss you to this young lady's care. We'll give her thorough instructions on how to tend to your bandages. You'll have to have them daily for several weeks."

If Relena could imagine Heero looking… surly, she would have applied it to him at that moment. His eyebrows drew into something of a scowl that had more irritation that venom in it, but he didn't make any vocal objection. All he did was look away. She could only conclude that he must be in pain, and knew he needed tending.

Her heart trembled as she approached the bed, and she folded her hands in front of her when she was close.

"I know you can take care of yourself, Heero," she said. "I'm sure you could wrap your own bandages and mend by yourself without help from anyone, but all the same I would be happy to have you stay with me. I would like to care for you, if you wouldn't mind it. It will only be for a few weeks and I'm sure you would benefit from clean linens and prepared meals and a safe place to rest so you can heal properly."

Heero didn't say anything for a long while, and after a minute of waiting, Relena turned to Sally and asked if she wouldn't mind leaving them to talk for a little while alone. Sally eyed Heero around Relena's shoulder, evaluating his taciturn expression, and shook her head ruefully. With a nod to Relena that might have been a good luck, Sally excused herself, shutting the door behind her. Once she was gone, Relena took the opportunity to pull the chair up beside the bed.

She sat down and looked at Heero with her hands folded in her lap. He was undressed under the covers, the lines of his body sensually gratifying save for the wrappings, and seemingly fit otherwise, but she tried not to think about the harm that had come to his body. At length, he turned his head to look at her, and when their eyes met she felt a little jump in her heart, for they seemed softer and deeper than she remembered after so long, and drew her in so that she struggled not to lift a hand from her lap and touch some part of him.

They were alone for a few minutes, mutually drinking in the silence and adjusting to the other's presence before Heero spoke.

"I'm a hunted man," he said in a voice that was all the more ominous for its sobriety. "There are people looking for me. It won't be safe for me to stay with you."

"Looking here?" she ventured, "with me?" When he didn't answer she merely shook her head. "Then no one will know." She didn't doubt that there were dangerous people somewhere in the world looking for Heero, but she was not deterred by it as an objection. Fear could not move her to abandon him when he needed aid, and she had no reason to be afraid even for her own life. In her political position, she was always at some risk, but that had never stopped her from doing what had to be done.

He seemed to see the resolution in her face. "You're stubborn," he said. When she didn't react he added in a cold, hard tone, "It might get you killed."

She took his hand in hers, her fingers wrapping securely around the warm flesh of his palm and smoothing the calluses that textured the skin. It was instinctive to touch him, an attribute to the intimacy they shared, and he didn't try to deny it by pulling away. But he didn't squeeze her hand either. He merely looked at her, eyes piercing now, but not in a way that perturbed her. "Agree to stay with me," she persuaded. "We will both be perfectly safe. No one will suspect the Vice Foreign Minister to take in a wounded soldier. No one even knows I am here. My personal staff is small and intimate and can be trusted to keep secrets. Besides, no one knows who you are. You will be well cared for, and I will feel better if I know that you are recovering someplace where there will always be someone to look after you."

He closed his eyes and turned his head away, but she took his lack of objection as agreement, if reluctantly given. They didn't speak about it, but they both knew it was decided. Even Heero couldn't argue that it would actually be better for him to recuperate alone in that empty, half-furnished apartment, and if he was really worried about someone coming for him and possibly endangering her, he would have said something.

"So," she began in a quiet voice. "What happened?"

He opened his eyes again, dark blue irises drinking in the shadows as well as the light. He stared at the ceiling. She still held his hand, but he took no notice of it. It was almost like she didn't exist, or that her existence hovered on a periphery he gave notice to only when he chose. It wasn't like he was willfully ignoring her; just that he seemed lost in his own thoughts.

"It's nothing to worry about."

She felt her throat constrict from the blankness of his tone. She didn't believe him. Not at all. But he wasn't angry or scared or even resigned. He had no belief that there was any reason he survived or should survive beyond his own skills and the circumstances in the moment, and the same to why he was in danger in the first place. It was a hard, cold, rational way to live, stripped of personal values and emotions and sentiments, and what made it worse was how ardently she loved him for it, passionate for the very thing that could destroy his ever loving her in return.

She was forced to release Heero's hand when Sally knocked on the door, though she did so deliberately rather than with any measure of haste or embarrassment. He never turned his eyes away from the ceiling until after she confirmed the time she should come back for him with Sally. He only looked her way when she was preparing to leave, and she only noticed because she hadn't pulled the door closed behind her firmly enough and had to turn back to the handle to start again. Through the crack she saw his eyes still on her, studying her with an expression she couldn't understand, but in all its careful blankness wrung her heart.

* * *

Several days later, Heero found himself loaded into a limousine after dark and driven to the Darilan estate. Relena smartly did not come herself to pick him up, but sent someone on an errand as she seemingly did twenty times a day for various things. It wouldn't be remarked on. He wouldn't even see her until she came home after work, which might not be until quite late. He was fine with that.

Relena's small household staff was prepared for his arrival. He saw no one but the driver when he first arrived, and was assisted from the car to a furnished guest bedroom by an older woman with gray hair wound in a bun behind her head and a steady, single-minded disposition. She told him her name was Candace Mae with an air that dared him to shorten it, and spoke not another word to him until he had followed her to his room. She turned down the bed, pointed out the various facilities and then ordered him in a clear, brisk and impersonal voice to disrobe and take to bed before he agitated his wounds any further. He stared at her until he realized she meant to stand there and watch while he did it, and then ruefully obeyed without expression or comment.

Once he was settled, Candace Mae closed the blinds and curtains and turned to him with her hands clasped in front of her and her expression hard as iron.

"My lady Relena has given specific instructions to how affairs regarding you are to be handled," she said. "No one in this house is to mention you outside the presence of yourself or Relena. Of those who work here, you will mostly see me. I've been informed of your name and that you were doing something for the good of our world's present peace to land you in our care. I'm also aware of your personal relationship with Relena. Don't look at me like that. I've known about you for some time. My specific knowledge about you is limited, never mind that I've been Relena's house manager for many years and I was her nursemaid when she was just a little girl. For reasons of her own, which I'm sure are good ones, Relena has never told me how she knows you exactly or what it is that you do. Until now, I could only assume you were somehow worthy of her affection, despite the distress and heartache you have caused her over the years. I hope you prove yourself deserving. You'll find me unpleasant otherwise."

Heero was left to chew on this information while the woman went to retrieve his dinner from the kitchen. He hadn't considered that Relena's servants would have opinions about him, or would even know much of anything about his relationship with her. It eased him in some respects because it indicated that Candace Mae at least was dedicated to Relena personally as well as professionally, which would give her reason to keep quiet about his staying here. It unsettled him in other ways because it was a sharp and vicious reminder that he had, from another perspective, mistreated Relena on a personal level. He just hoped she was not damaged from it. It was more reason to keep away from her, if he could bear to do so.

He looked around the room at the white, silk draperies on the windows, the quilt on the bed, the mirror over the dresser with the scrolled silver frame. Everything reminded him of her. Even the smell was faintly floral, just like her perfume. It was her house. In a room similar to this one, he had visited her in the middle of the night and made her gasp and cry his name. He hadn't been thinking of more than sensual pleasure then, but now he sat in her house with nothing to do but think. What would it be like to live in this house with her? In his head, an endless mill of thoughts circled round and round and went nowhere. He found himself thinking about how he felt when he saw her walk into his room at the hospital, the sudden surprise and contentment that warred with irritability about her being there. He thought about what she had said, and how he responded, and most especially what he would say to her when she came home. He would see her and speak to her every day for weeks. So he thought about it, and the more he thought the more he realized he was feeling as well as thinking, and that his thoughts were more than idle and hard to dissipate.

The situation was awkward. It had been months since he had last seen her, and what they had done then was a fluke that had resulted because she had been trying to escape other things. He didn't know if she still felt anything for him, or if she wanted his attentions whether she did or not. It was kind of her to take him in while he healed, but that was the kind of person she was, and although she had held his hand in he hospital and he had detected worry in her voice, it didn't signify anything beyond that she cared about him. Besides, his situation had not changed. If anything, it was worse.

It was with a mixture of relief and trepidation when he heard a faint knock on the door, accompanied by Relena's voice. She entered dressed in a business skirt and blouse and heels that added length and shape to her legs. She was run down from the day, her hair coming loose from the clip that pinned it behind her head. Strands of hair framed her face as she bent over slightly to remove her shoes, and she tucked them behind her ears as she straightened. He tried to avoid looking too much. It took him a moment to realize she had spoken to him.

"Did you take your pain killers?" she asked, meeting his eyes as she straightened. The way she looked at him made him uncomfortable.

"I'll take them when I go to bed."

"I was told every four hours," she said, but more to herself than to him. She couldn't force him to take medication if he didn't want to. He would only take them to sleep because he did not want to be awake all night thinking. "How are your bandages?" she asked. "Will you let me change them?"

He had to if he wanted to heal quickly. He nodded and it was with some delicacy that she fetched the wraps. He had to sit up and turn his back to her as she settled herself behind him on the bed. His back was bare except for the bandages and he wore nothing but a pair of boxers elsewhere, though he had the blankets and sheets thrown over his legs. She didn't comment on it, of course, and touched him only in a clinical way, unwinding the bandages slowly and carefully. When they came undone, he heard her draw in her breath, and didn't wonder that his back looked a mess of burns and boils that would heal only into scars. The doctors didn't think he would need skin graphs but the damage was hardly pleasant to behold. Still, Relena said nothing about it, and didn't flinch from tending the injury as she had been instructed. In fact, she was so quiet he began to wonder if she was sickened by what she saw. He hardly heard her breathe, and though her hands were as gentle as he could wish, they were cold and he felt them shake a little as she began to apply fresh bandages.

At length she finished, and still she did not speak. He strained to hear her say something, anything. All she did was lower her hands to her lap, and when he turned, she avoided looking at him, turning her head to the side and dropping her chin down to hide her face.

He didn't know what to say. "You don't have to do it," he said. "Your house manager seems steady enough. You could ask…"

He cut himself off, astounded when she raised her head and he saw tears glistening in her eyes. The moisture was captured like dew in the cavern of a flower, and nothing else on her face betrayed any emotion he would expect to accompany tears. She raised a hand to her face, covering her mouth as if surprised at herself, and it was clear to him suddenly that if she spoke she would sob.

"Relena…" he said as gently as he knew how. There was a question in his tone, a slight upward accent on the end of her name that appealed for some explanation. "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," she choked, and shook her head violently to stop any additional outburst. "I started thinking about what must have happened when I was undoing it and then I saw it and I just… It just hit me." She closed her eyes and a moment later her head hit his shoulder. She was hiding her face again, and asking for comfort at the same time. He didn't know what to do except hold her, his arms wrapping automatically around her back and stroking her hair until she stopped shaking. She was warm in his arms, solid and soft and real, the softest thing he had felt in awhile. He thought about nothing, looking over head at the wall. He continued to think of nothing until she pulled back a little, just enough for him to see her face.

And then they kissed.

He wasn't sure who kissed who. Her lips were warm when he touched them, and in a moment, it didn't matter. He was kissing her and every other thought was obliterated by the smell of her hair, the soft touch of her lips and the warmth of her body. He kissed her repeatedly, drawing every sweet, sanguine feeling he could from her presence, and hardly knew when he stopped for air and when he began again. He could feel them both heaving for breath as tongues ventured into the others' mouth and their bodies started to react to the increasing closeness of the contact. He was starting to lose himself in it, forgetting everything except that she was there, and was only pulled back to reality when she ripped her lips away from his and pulled out of his arms, holding him at length with wide and startled eyes.

"Oh god," she said. "Heero, we can't."

"He was more miffed than she could possibly be, though he let nothing show on his face.

"You're injured," she said. "And this is my house. I live here and you can't leave afterward. I…I need to go to bed. I have to get up early and I need to sleep well. Tomorrow is a long, important day for me. Besides, I know how you feel about this, and about us. When you were so long away I thought that maybe it would be better if we didn't…" She stumbled and blushed. "I mean because you said you couldn't…" Now she seemed flustered. They were emotions on her face and in her voice he did not expect to see so casually betrayed. "You need to rest. I can't believe that I…" She got up hurriedly from the bed, slipping her feet into her shoes and gathering the bandages from his bed. "I'll see you tomorrow. Candace Mae will take care of you until I get home. Sleep well. Take your pain medicine."

She turned off the lights and vanished through the door.

Surrounded by the gray gloom of night, he watched her go with a feeling of surprise directed more at himself than at her. He was surprised by what had happened, and by what she said, but more so by his reaction to it.

Surprising. Impossible.

Leaning over the side of the bed, he opened the bottle that contained his prescribed painkillers and swallowed two pills with the glass of water that had been left with dinner. He would have found it difficult to sleep if the dizziness from the drugs had not conquered his thoughts and drove his consciousness into darkness.

* * *

TBC

With a threat on the horizon and new emotions in the mix, will being forced to live with Relena in her home change anything?


	7. Decision

Thank you all for waiting this long. It seems I need a little encouragement these days! As always, unedited versions of this story can be found at blissfulignorance. Thank you for reading!

Amour

Chapter 7

By Zapenstap

Heero slept well into midmorning. It was longer than he was used to sleeping and his muscles groaned with protest when he tried to move. The bed in Relena's home was more comfortable by far than any other bed in his memory, possibly the most comfortable bed in which he had slept through the night in his whole life. The mattress was firm, but everything around him was goose down soft. The coverlet was silver-gray with strands of white silk woven in the thread so that the pattern sparkled where sunlight from the window flitted across the bed. Someone must have come in to open the blinds and throw back the curtains while he was sleeping. It was amazing that he didn't wake up. Either the painkillers had driven him under past responsiveness or he felt… safe here.

As he sat up, he winced from the pain in his back. The skin was deeply seared and extremely painful, but pain was better than numbness. If it had been numb, it would have meant his nerves had been damaged, which would have meant physical therapy and reconstructive surgery with skin graphing that would take months. His surgeon told him that the damage he did receive was serious and would leave scars, but with luck it wouldn't be horribly disfiguring. With careful treatment, he should recover within a few weeks. In the meantime, it was good to start working the blood back into his body by moving around. He had to take it easy, but he didn't have to stay in bed.

Clothes had been left out for him on the dresser and he dressed quickly, donning the casual khaki colored slacks and white dress shirt without looking at or caring much about what had been left for him to change into. He was still standing with the hem hanging loose and the cuffs unbuttoned when a soft knock came at his door. He remained silent and a moment later the door swung open to admit Relena.

She came in with her hair down around her face and a rose colored scarf around her neck. It couldn't be later than five or six in the morning, but she was ready for work, decked out in a light gray skirt suit and heels and looking prepared for a press conference. He eyed that scarf appreciatively for a moment and then went back to buttoning the cuffs of his sleeves.

"I thought you might be awake," she said, and he as glanced at her from the corner of her eye, he saw her blush and look away.

He intended to ignore their kiss from the night before, just as he intended to ignore her blush now. He didn't care to speculate on why a kiss should darken her cheeks this morning when so much of what they had done before ought to turn her as red as a cooked lobster. Yet he had seen her bear that coolly. A tickling in the back of his mind suggested why this might be, but there didn't seem to be any hurry to do anything about it and he hadn't made up his mind whether or not anything needed to be done. Instead, he finished the button on his left arm and turned to the right.

"Would you join me in the courtyard when you've finished getting ready?" she asked. "I like to drink a cup of tea before breakfast and I would enjoy company."

"You have a courtyard?" he asked, "in the house?"

She flushed, perhaps with embarrassment. He had seen her become flummoxed over her wealth around him before, but he didn't understand why. Perhaps she felt that he would be jealous or uncomfortable if she flaunted her success, but if so, she needn't bother; money didn't mean very much to him. Then again, perhaps he embarrassed her; there were probably things he shouldn't comment on, such as an aspect of her house that she was used to taking in stride. If so, he was too ill bred to realize it, and just as unconcerned about appearing ill-bred.

"I'll see you down there," he said softly, and she nodded to him as she walked backward out of the room, shutting the door softly behind her on her way out.

Heero made his way downstairs several minutes later. As far as appearances went, he did little more than run a wet comb through his hair, and not with any stylistic aim. His clothes were clean, pressed and comfortable, but there was nothing in particular to recommend him as a guest in this household. Relena's mansion was even larger-seeming on the inside than it had appeared from without. There were rooms and passages that seemed to have no use, and whole wings in the building that might not see more activity in a month than a maid to dust the furniture and ornaments. Nevertheless, everything was kept in spotless condition, and some combination of the lighting and the décor invited a sense of warmth as well as elegance even when the rooms went largely unused.

On the main floor, he was accosted by Candace Mae, whose stout, straight-backed figure was garbed in a gray dress the same color as the hair she wore gathered in a bun on the back of her head. She was built like a concrete pillar, her face an implacable and steadfast mask that brooked no-nonsense, and yet not unkind for all of that.

"A good morning to you," she said as soon as she saw him, stopping in the hallway to fold her hands in front of her and run a discerning eye over his face and figure. When he didn't reply, her mouth tightened slightly, but rather than upbraid him on his lack of manners she gestured down the hall. "You'll find the Lady Relena around the corner from the glass doors at the end of the hallway. Be careful not to wander into the dining room on your way out. We are preparing breakfast and don't need anyone out under foot. If you would like tea or coffee, I can send someone out with it."

"No," he said, and met the woman's flat iron stare with a smoldering glare of his own. "Thank you, no. I'm fine."

With a curt nod and small, satisfied smile, Candace Mae swept passed him, gliding away like a swan over water. He couldn't make sense of the woman. He detected nothing precisely antagonistic from her, but there was a certain air about her that made him question if she disliked him or if she was expecting something from him that he failed to deliver, and in more than just politeness. Being Relena's house manager and something of a servant since her childhood, he supposed her attitude toward him might reflect the manner in which he treated Relena, or perhaps his status as a guest in her house. If so, there was so much working against him that even if he had a notion to appease the woman he wouldn't have known where to start. As it was, she was… formidable.

The courtyard where Relena was waiting was easy to find. The windows in the hallway near the dining room looked out into what Heero had to describe as an outdoor garden built in the middle of the house. The building that was Relena's house curved around it, two doors from the north and east opening into an outdoor, rectangular space where beds of flowers, a small pool, and groups of slender trunk trees were sectioned out with walkways paved in smooth gray stone. Sunlight and shadows flitted across the ground as the wind chased tendrils of gray clouds across the sun. As Heero opened the door and stepped out onto the pathway, he caught the scent of flowers, rich earth, grass, and green trees. The air smelled of impending rain.

Relena sat on a white stone bench placed on the edge of the path near the middle of the garden. She sat with her back to him, facing the pool and the bird feeders, the hem of a long dress coat hanging over the edge of the bench and the hood pulled up over her head. It was cold, but not freezing, the chill startling Heero with the fresh vitality of morning. Ignoring the goose bumps that prickled the skin of his forearms, he approached the bench slowly until he was in a position to ease himself carefully down beside Relena.

Her head turned and she smiled at him, her eyes full of some light he could not qualify and didn't try to. Between her hands she held a steaming cup of what he supposed was tea, lightly sugared as usual, and smelling of blackberry.

"Thank you for joining me," she said after a moment of silence. "How do you feel?"

"I'm all right," he replied. He stared ahead of him, watching the sparrows alight on the seeds that had been scattered on the bark to attract their interest. They were small birds, smaller than one of his fists, round and quick and painted in brown and black markings to match their environment. There were probably a hundred or more in the bushes, hiding among the branches and leaves and venturing out in groups to peck at the ground where Relena must have scattered seeds.

"It's cold out here," he remarked. "Do you often sit outside? It might rain."

"It wakes me up," Relena replied, and the smile slipped from her face as she looked out over the tiny pool where a dead, brown leaf alighted on the surface of the water and sent a succession of ripples racing for the edge. "I like to look at the outside world in the morning. I spend almost everyday in some office building, sometimes in rooms without windows. It's stifling, and sometimes I lose perspective among so many white-washed walls." She grimaced, staring out in front of her as if she were in her office now and saw the walls around her and closing in more and more each day. He sensed more than heard the self-reproach in her tone, as if she felt that she were not doing enough, as if she ought to be experiencing the hardship and exposure to the elements that was the condition of those she fought for.

"You have an easy life," he said.

The curtness in his tone did not escape her notice. She cocked her head to one side, much like one of the birds they had both been studying, watching him with an air of affronted curiosity. "Oh?"

He met her piercing gaze implacably and continued as if he had not heard the ruffled tone in her voice. "This isn't the 'outside world.' This is a sanctuary in the safety of your own home. All your needs are provided for, and because of that you have the luxury to choose what you want to do with your life. If you wanted, you could quit your job and spend every day on a beach."

His voice dripped acid, the words laden with contempt, and she stared at him as if she had never seen him before in her life. He watched as the wheels turned in her head, as she tried to use her intuition to gauge his feelings about her and her work, questioning if she had misunderstood his admiration for what she had chosen to do with her life, wondering if he understood her at all. He watched and said nothing, waiting for her to respond, wondering if she would cry in betrayal or bristle with the light ferocity of indignation. He was hoping for the latter and was not disappointed. First a wrinkle appeared on her brow, and her head snaked slowly backward as her eyebrows drooped and the corners of her mouth tightened. "God, Heero, the work I do is important. To do what you suggest I could…Well, I _could_, but I would die of boredom." A note of exasperation entered her voice, her eyes darting everywhere but at his face as her hands clenched around her tea. She stared at nothing for a moment and then smoothed her face, setting her cup beside her and folding her hands contritely in her lap. When she continued, her voice was softer, but no less forceful. She could control her emotions even when she was offended and furious. It admired that in her, but he kept his own face smooth to allow her to continue in her own defense. "Worse than that, I would feel contempt for myself. I thought you knew. I _had_ that life. I don't want it back. Yes, my privileged position allows me to make and sustain the choices that I have made, but it doesn't mean that what I do is _easy_."

He nodded approvingly. "Then don't think that it ought to be harder," he said. "If you with all of your resources are as burdened as you are with so many responsibilities, then don't ask for impediments that will keep you from meeting those responsibilities. The hopes of everyone in the world are riding on you. You have to take care of yourself."

Amazement stole over her face as she realized that he had goaded her into giving the answer that would best support her own feelings. Amazement was followed swiftly by relief as all of her feelings about him and his relationship to her were restored where his harsh words had rent them. She sat very still on the bench, her bare knees pressed together and her shoulders bent, one hand clutched over her heart as she breathed and thought with equal violence. Heero watched this with understanding, knowing before she moved or spoke the feelings that this casual conversation had aroused. Passion was aggressive in her breast, passion for him because he had helped her without trying to, because he knew her well enough to help her. He knew the progression of her thought, and without adding anything more, he stood up, careful not to agitate his back, and made to walk away until he was caught by the feel of her hand clutching the sleeve by his left wrist.

"Heero," she said, and the sound of his name was so like a plea that he turned to look down at her, half slumped over on the bench with her hair dangling over one shoulder and her eyes on his face. "Sit with me, please. I need to tell you something."

He sat and she straightened, adjusting her clothes as she composed her expression, avoiding looking at him until she had gathered her thoughts. He waited patiently.

"Having you here," she said slowly. "I'm not sure how long, and I thought about it last night, and I'm not even sure what would be best. It's just that you mean so much to me. Do you _want_ me to leave you alone or…?" She trailed off, blushing, and he realized that she was rethinking her decision from the day before to stay away from him. Maybe she wanted him. Maybe it was natural if she did, but he didn't think that was the real tenant of this discussion.

"What do you want?" he asked her, and he knew that she understood his question to be deeper than what she wanted in a moment or for a time. He watched her in silence. She stared at the birds pecking among the bark, not at him, and her chest heaved pleasantly in the bodice of her dress as she breathed deeply and thought slowly.

"To be near you," she replied. "As near as I can be. When I think about it, and if I'm honest with myself, I feel that that is what I want, despite how unwise it may turn out to be. I know that it is difficult, and that there are dangers involved, but I can't help it. I love you." She looked at him suddenly, her bright blue eyes assaulting his face so suddenly and with such ferocity that he looked away as heat suffused his face. He felt her shift, leaning toward him, urgency and uncertainty entering her tone only after he reacted. He felt her hand alight softly below his shoulder, pressing into the material of his shirt without actually grabbing him. "I don't want to pressure you," she said, "but I know you care about me. You have always cared about me. I know at least that much."

He couldn't look at her. He could feel every twitch and pulse in his body, but he could not move a muscle.

"I want to be near you," she repeated softly. "I don't expect anything anymore. I'm not asking you to stay around. I'm not even asking you to love me since you seem to think that they are related. I wouldn't dare try to cage you. I just… I want you to know how I feel. I didn't intend for these feelings to return, but they have, gradually, and I can't help it."

Steeling himself, he gently removed her hand from his arm. He saw a tremor of trepidation cross her face, but he didn't release her hand. His breath came raggedly to his throat, and some part of his awareness noted a peculiar trembling in his legs. His voice sounded rough when he spoke. "Relena, you have to believe that I have good reasons for thinking that it is in both of our best interests to keep our feelings in check. If you feel the way you say you do, then we should probably maintain some distance while I stay here."

"I know there is something between us," she cried. "I feel it to my bones! I also know things have never been quite right. We have led very different lives, and you were right to leave me all those years ago. I wasn't ready to deal with the reality of what this has to be then. I wanted something impossible and I wanted it immediately with no real knowledge of how to create or maintain it. But that doesn't mean that what I feel for you isn't real or isn't worth it. Maybe it was partly fabrication once, a supposing of what might be, but whatever illusions I had grew from some quality of feeling that can't be dismissed. I know you feel the same way. If I really thought you didn't, I wouldn't hold on like this, and I wouldn't feel confident to bring it up now. It's just that the way you kissed me yesterday— You've never kissed me like that before."

He didn't know how to answer, partly because what she was saying unsettled him and he couldn't dissemble fast enough. He had fabrications too, structures he used to bolster the framework of his existence and keep it where he understood what to do and could do what had to be done. Keeping Relena where he could watch her, and watch himself near her, rather than with her, was part of that structure. It went without saying that even if he did decide he loved her, it would make no difference to the technicalities of their arrangement. He couldn't allow himself to think on it! He wasn't going to stay. He had things to do, dark and dangerous things that had no place in her world and would cause her to suffer if she became an extremity of him. He saw that she understood this from her expression, yet hope still seemed to make her face glow.

"Heero?" she asked. "How do you feel about me?"

He turned to face her, twisting his body slightly until they were facing each other at an angle and he was close enough to see the individual lashes clouding around her eyes. The proximity was such that he thought nothing of reaching up to touch her cheek, caressing the softness that was in her face, the purity and innocence on which so many of his dreams hung.

"I don't know," he said quietly. "I haven't decided how I should feel."

She stared at him, her blue eyes glistening above his thumb, and slowly pulled back. Her mouth was parted slightly, her eyes wide, vulnerable, flickering as she absorbed his statement and tossed it fitfully around in the corners of her brain. "You can…_decide_?" she said quietly, almost to herself. She seemed startled by this notion, and her eyes lost their focus on him as she turned inward to consider it. "You can decide how you feel? And if you don't want to love me, or if it's not convenient, then you just …won't?"

Heero could think of nothing to say. Yes, he could decide. He thought he had been clear all along about why he must not love her.

Suddenly, Relena stood, saving him from having to respond as she rose from the bench and picked up her empty mug by the handle. "I have to go to work," she said. "But I need to change your bandages before I go."

"One of your servants can do it," he suggested.

"No. I want to."

He merely nodded and rose, gesturing for her to lead the way.

In the privacy of her guest room, at Relena's request, he sat on the edge of the bed and calmly stripped off his shirt. She knelt behind him on the mattress, her feet hanging off the edge of the bed and her skirt tucked around her legs. Her fingers were gentle, unwinding his bandages with a deft surety and tending the needs of his wounds without causing him any additional discomfort. He stared straight ahead of him while she worked, staring placidly in the mirror above the dresser where he could see himself, bare-chested, stoic and motionless, and Relena, her expression intent on her work, her arms, hands and fingers flashing above his shoulders as she wound the clean bandages around his torso. She set about replacing his bandages with such calm, single-minded determinedness that Heero found himself momentarily mesmerized by the focus in her face and the placidity of her expression. When she finished, she sat back on her heels and smiled at him over his shoulder, meeting his eyes in the mirror. He caught a glimpse of himself and his dark blue eyes like stones polished to hardness, and tried to soften his expression.

"I'll be back tonight," Relena told him, and he felt her hand fall on his bare shoulder. He raised the opposite arm to cover her fingers absently, and then rose from the bed so that her hand slipped off. She stood with him, smoothing her skirt and looking elsewhere than at his figure, a faint blush staining her cheeks. "Heero, if you're uncomfortable at all while I'm away, just ask Candace Mae to assist you. Make sure you don't over exert yourself. Please, for me."

"Don't worry about me. You had better get to work."

She nodded and removed herself from his presence a little jerkily. She paused at the door, her cheeks still suffused with pink. "I'll see you later," she said, and slipped out.

Heero stared at himself in the mirror for awhile in silence, his thoughts churning with an edge of irritation. Something was not right, but he couldn't construct from the scattered pieces of the morning's events what it might be. All he knew was that he felt unsettled, almost anxious, as if something intangible was festering. It was as if an important supporting block had been pulled out from the foundation of a tower he was building and he was waiting to see whether or not it would topple. The trouble was that he was not sure what he had been building, which piece had been pulled, or what result he expected if the structure should collapse. And he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He had a niggling feeling that his not understanding was part of what kept the tower erect and that keeping that tower standing was immeasurably important. Had he offended Relena? Or had she said something to cause him this feeling of uncertainty? She had said many things. She had said she loved him, but he had already known that even if she didn't voice it. She had said she didn't have any expectations, but she had said that before as well and he couldn't trust it to be true. She had seemed surprised when he said he had not decided whether or not he should love her, but he had always been frank about that, hadn't he?

He knew he mustn't think about it, shouldn't dwell on it. This kind of speculation was dangerous. Concerning himself overmuch with Relena could lead to nothing but distraction, and he could not afford distractions.

Fortunately, his thoughts were interrupted by a solid knock on the door, and a moment later Candace Mae strode into the room with a breakfast tray in her hands and determined-looking expression on his face.

"Get into bed, please," she instructed, and stood there patiently until he complied. It was useless to fight her, and Heero didn't try. He settled himself back in bed without a murmur of rebellion, and allowed Relena's house manager to lay a breakfast tray across his lap. She served him breakfast without small talk, but to his irritation, stood near the bed and watched him eat until he had consumed practically everything on his plate.

"Miss Relena mentioned that you might have work to do while you recuperate under our care," she said when he had finished. "So some equipment has been ordered. When it arrives, it will be sent up to be configured according to your directions."

He stopped with his fork halfway to his mouth. "Relena ordered it?"

Candace Mae regarded him reprovingly down her nose as she lifted the tray from the bed. "Miss Relena understands you. She anticipated your needs. You might do well to consider what a blessing it is to be cared for by people who know you as she does. She loves you a great deal, God help her."

"It hasn't escaped my attention," he replied without really looking at the woman.

When the breakfast tray was collected from him and Candace Mae bustled out from the room, he found himself left once again alone. He was determined not to think, so he took his pain medication instead, hoping the resulting drowsiness would blur his thoughts so he could rest.

It had the opposite effect. The pain in his back dulled and his thoughts began to recede, but sleep did not come. He lay on the pillow and stared in bemused fascination as his depth perception slid and his grasp on reality became oil slick. And yet, despite his swimming vision, his thoughts and feelings remained clear and progressive. They marched in front of him at a distance he could study, circling round and round like horses on a carousel or shapes changing in a kaleidoscope. In this absurd state of semi-sobriety he was not intimidated by the possibilities before him, and so he analyzed the situation honestly.

Relena knew him. She loved him and because she knew him, she was able to anticipate his needs. Despite what he had told Candace Mae, it had, in some respects, escaped his attention. Heero knew himself to be a sensory observer. He perceived everything that happened around him. Certainly, he had noticed that Relena anticipated his needs merely by the things she did and said and kept quiet about, but he had not taken time to consider it or wonder at the phenomenon. But now the moments they had spent together in the courtyard this morning returned to him with sharp clarity. He understood that Relena ached to identify with him, that she wanted to understand his experiences and his feelings and become a part of them if she could. He kept her at arms length to save her from that fate, and he knew that she understood that too. She had told him herself that she would not pressure him, that she would not dare try to cage him, and yet now he wondered suddenly why she took such an interest in feeding birds.

She loved him. Despite all his efforts, she cared for him and wanted him near her and understood him and this, _this_ she signified as love. She loved him enough to keep him here where his constant presence must be, in some respects, a torture to her. She wanted to tend his wounds herself, wanted to speak to him or sit with him whenever time allowed, wanted his advice, his presence, his embrace, his company. To him she had confessed her feelings without any hope of an encouraging reply, because she understood him even to his reluctance to encourage her.

But he _had_ encouraged her. He had told her that he had not _decided_ to love her.

A feeling like fear spread from Heero's heart to the rest of his body and he jerked upright in bed, his heart thudding in his chest and his head spinning from more than the medication. He had _not_ decided, but did that mean that he _could_? Or even more pressingly, did that mean he _did_ love her and just refused to yield to it, to give action to an idea because he feared the consequences? Relena understood him, yes, but he also understood Relena. He understood her better than she understood herself, perhaps better than she understood him. He even took pleasure in proving it; he had demonstrated it this morning. He understood her and cared about her and he found her company far from unpleasant. He could not deny that he felt safe under her roof, that he looked forward to her room, her bed, her smile, her eyes, her arms, her embrace. Was it possible that within this concoction of security and simple pleasures there lay a formula for love that he had overlooked?

It occurred to him that Relena's confession of love did not bother him. There had been times in the past when her feelings annoyed him, mostly because they were immature and misguided, but there was no evidence to support that her feelings now were the same empty gestures of infatuation that they had been years ago. What's more, he was astonished to discover that not only was he unbothered, but he also wasn't _indifferent_ to her feelings. If he was not bothered and not indifferent, then that could only mean that he took pleasure in her feelings, that he even desired her to feel as she did! Was he simply selfish? Or did he welcome her feelings because he unconsciously returned them?

His heart began to palpitate. Could he, the nameless, drifting, murderous gundam pilot who called himself Heero Yuy, possibly _love_ Vice Foreign Minister Relena Darilan? His mouth turned dry and he fell into a cold sweat at the thought. He tried to rationalize it, but not with much success. His feelings for Relena could be those of friendship, or those of familial love, except for the fact that he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman. And even denying or dismissing that, the comfort he exacted from Relena went beyond the casual. He wanted to protect her more than anything, and she had always been a secret comfort to him. She made him feel strong, necessary, worthwhile, peaceful. She gave him something to live for. She was hope itself. She brought light into a room.

So maybe he loved her, or had the potential to love her, whether he acted on it or not. Had he all this time, unable to realize it because he so fiercely kept her at arms length? Or was it new, flaming up from a smoldering ember that he had never fanned to life but had never quite put out? He didn't know how it happened. He only knew that he loved her.

Once he thought it, he could not stop. He loved her. He loved Relena. He loved her.

The knowledge was not the exhilarating sense of flight of romance novels. Despite the swell in his breast that made his heart and body shake, it was painful, terribly painful. He loved Relena, his whole body aching with it, and yet his circumstances, and hers, remained unchanged. The true reality of love was an action that he must not take. He _could_ _not_ stay here. _If_ he acted on this, he could only love her in fits. After these blissful weeks were at an end he would have to leave, and it would be more important than ever to make sure that no connection was drawn between the gundam pilot Heero Yuy and the ESUN representative Relena Darilan. He was a hunted man, and there was no telling for how long or what would come next if this crisis ever abated. If he chose to love Relena, and if he chose to indulge that feeling by being near her, it would be their usual tryst of stormy seductions, secret outings and little or no correspondence. He could not afford jeopardize her, or himself, with any kind of habitual behavior.

For that reason, he wasn't sure that she should know, that he should betray by look, word or touch any of the feeling that was in his heart. And yet, the urge to do so was so powerful that he did not know how long he could avoid it. He loved her. How long could he quiet about it while _living_ here? It wasn't to be borne. Some part of him wanted to declare it, however painful, to force interaction that would confirm if it was really true. And he knew he had to touch her to know, to kiss her and hold her and be near her. He wanted to kiss her more than ever, and knew that he shouldn't, that he absolutely _mustn't_, even to confirm his feelings.

It was too late for shouldn't. He had to fight it! He was damned either way, but he had to fight it!

Sleep came suddenly and swiftly, gripping him with the hand of terror and pulling him down into darkness. But he did not forget, and every moment thereafter was one of slow, agonizing torture.

* * *

Over the next few days, Candace Mae observed in staunchly submerged amazement the taciturn dance of intimacy and avoidance between Relena and the young man who called himself Heero Yuy. The way they interacted was a balance of give and take, of generosity and withholding, of gentle flattery and constructive honesty. She had told the young man that the lady Relena understood him, but she saw more keenly that the reverse was also true. And it was not just understanding, but respect, admiration, and a fierce physical desire that the pair of them barely constrained under tightly knotted bonds, a longing that was perceptible to every person in the house who bothered to look beneath the surface. 

When Candace first laid eyes on Heero, it was like looking at a barely tamed wolf or a fettered hawk. He had eyes that could pierce armor and a way of moving that bespoke a degree of physical and mental control highly unusual in such a young man. She knew he was dangerous, dangerous and wild, but it hardly mattered to her. No human being alive could frighten Candace Mae. She was old, and one of the benefits of age was that she had seen love, peace, death and war and was no longer frightened or surprised by any of it. And yet, she had to give a nod of respect to the deadly grace that Heero Yuy emitted, just as she admired the lady Relena's diplomacy, her bright steely strength sheathed in white feather softness. Nevertheless, they were both young, hot blooded people, perhaps more hot blooded that they knew, and it gave her pleasure to see young people such as them thrown together, for all she thought them a pair of hopeless fools.

Given the reserve of Miss Relena and the stoicism of Heero Yuy, it surprised her how ostentatiously considerate they were of each other. Exclusively for Heero's benefit, Relena had shipped to her home a variety of sensitive and expensive technological devices difficult for a civilian to come by, equipment that was delivered in unmarked boxes and later brought up to Heero's guestroom to be assembled as he directed. At Relena's request, what Heero did with this equipment was never postulated or investigated by anyone in the household, which Candace Mae supposed to be the unspoken preference of Heero Yuy, though she could not fathom why he needed such secrecy, his character and occupation being such a mystery. Furthermore, if he asked for anything—supplies, errands, messages hand-delivered, anything—she and her staff were instructed to make it happen, no questions asked. This took up a great deal of Mr. Yuy's requirements, but his other needs—particularly his medical ones—Relena attended to with equal attentiveness. And she never complained. Indeed, it seemed to please her to aid Heero however he needed it, and Candace Mae smiled in recognition of the excitement a young girl could feel when she felt useful to a man whose strength and independence she admired.

To return the favor, Heero routinely saw to it that Relena did not overwork herself when she brought her work home, which was almost always every night. Papers needing her once-over mysteriously vanished from her desk only to reappear with all the appropriate passages marked in Heero's hand, and after a few days of observing her, he complained in muttering tones where Candace Mae could hear that the Vice Foreign Minister needed to learn how to put down her work and rest. Although his injuries had to be painful, Candace Mae knew that Heero did not need Relena to change his bandages for him, and that he let her attend to his wounds more for her sake than his. However, after this announcement about her overworking herself, he began to appear in Relena's doorway to ask for her help in changing his bandages, almost always when she was doing paperwork in bed instead of sleeping as she should, a huge stack of papers ensuring a long night if she not put them aside. At his request, Relena would start out of a trance, blink at the clock, and come to his room in nothing but a chemise and a robe to change his dressings. In this way, Heero would induce her to talk about her work earlier in the evening, and their talks always resulted in Relena's feeling more relaxed and prepared for the next day, enough to promise to put her papers down and go to bed directly, and let Heero take care of some of the menial tasks during the many unoccupied hours he spent in need of something to do while she was at the office.

Candace Mae noticed that when they were not conversing, they spent a lot of time watching each other. For some inexplicable reason, the wolf in Heero seemed to relax in Relena's presence. He was cold and aloof to Candace Mae and the staff, carrying himself with reserved conceit unusual in someone with no pride of property. Candace Mae was not entirely certain he was aware of this socially awkward, affronting attitude, but whatever defensive strategies he employed around the rest of them relaxed around Relena. They took coffee together in the mornings and worked silently in the same room in the evenings. During those times, if Candace Mae happened to pass by—which she did frequently and on purpose—she would often see one of them watching the other. Their eyes never met, and the vigilance never lasted long, for they would always check their behavior when they became aware that they had been staring, and then would return ruefully to their work. Relena watched Heero with a kind of hopeful satisfaction that was somewhat heartbreaking to observe. Heero stared at Relena as if trying to absorb her with his eyes, and with Heero it slowly became discernible that there was a growing struggle taking place when he looked her. His jaw locked and his forehead furrowed, but his eyes softened more and more each day, pupils that were once like polished stones melting into radiant pools of constrained emotion, eyes that Candace Mae recognized as similar to the gaze that had been directed toward her from the face of another young man many years ago. They were the eyes of a young man falling in love against his will, and Candace Mae's lips tightened in worry, but Relena never noticed the change or saw the look. Heero's face became blank and unreadable whenever her attention flickered his way, and his eyes became once again like mirrors. Naturally, Candace Mae concealed to herself what she had seen. Heero was so intent on Relena he had not noticed her pass, and she learned long ago not to interfere in the love affairs of others.

She noticed too that Heero never touched Relena, not even so casually as a brush of the shoulder in the hallway. The tension between them was at times almost palpable. After two weeks, Candace Mae began to become impatient with them. Two people with such young, healthy bodies and an obvious affection and attraction for each other shouldn't waste their opportunities, even if they were certain it could not work out. Relena was busy, too busy to make use of her charms the way other women of her age and resources could, and it was a damned shame not to take what was handed to her. As for Heero, well he had more self-control than any hot-blooded, young man in love she had ever seen, which included all the wild love affairs of her youth. It was obvious that something was keeping the pair from indulging in their more primal instincts—Candace Mae was too old and experienced in the world to pretend to believe that propriety alone was a reason—but she was prone to believe, along with the rest of the staff, that whatever noble notions those two children had, they had best drop soon if they wanted to snatch a breath of happiness before it passed them by. Life was too short, and love too gloriously tumultuous to let it escape untried.

On the fourth day of the second week, she told Relena as much, causing the girl to turn red as a beet as Candace Mae hung up her suit and gathered the rest of the ironing from her room.

"But I can't," Relena protested. "I do want to, but Heero thinks it would be better if we remained apart. He says that he hasn't decided to love me, Candace Mae. He doesn't think he can and he doesn't want to break my heart."

"Oh, is that right?" She was tempted to tell Relena what she thought about the infamous Mr. Yuy's undeclared feelings—that she thought the man was a fool if he was anything, like most men in his position that she had known, but she knew it would only mean trouble coming from her, so she merely grunted as she folded one of Relena's blouses over her arm.

She knew full well that men approached matters of love differently than women. Women were born and bred to be practical and ever-conscious of the possibility of men and all that that implied. From the cradle women were taught by society to size up every man they met for the possibility of a mate, a provider, a husband, a father, a protector, or whatever else might be needed, or she had anyway, and then to wear their hearts on their sleeves for the taking and the breaking in the game of catching them, but men, though they may find any woman they met sexually attractive, could pick and choose among the fairer sex as it suited them, and then unfairly temper their feelings to match their situations and desires. However, even they could be surprised. Men were capable of falling in love as suddenly as any feeling human creature. Sometimes they were too stubborn to recognize it as such, but fall they could, and when they did, it was often twice as hard as women, with the result that they would go to extraordinary lengths to get what they wanted, much to the satisfaction of everyone provided the lady returned the sentiment.

However, all she said was "Well, don't give up on it just yet, my dear" and quietly let herself out of the room.

* * *

At the end of the second week, Relena sat before her vanity in a chemise combing perfectly untangled hair. 

She had noticed a change in Heero since they spoke in the courtyard on that first morning after he arrived, but she didn't all together understand what it meant. He seemed tense, more so with each passing day, yet he still seemed content to spend more time in her company than was strictly necessary, and he sat up late with her in the living room where she read over her papers and did his work in her presence. Sometimes he worked on the laptop she had ordered for him, and although he maintained a degree of secrecy in regard to what he was doing, he still answered her questions as far as he felt it was safe to do so. Other times he read books. He alternated between technical manuals and nonfiction literature, but once he brought in a thin book of essays and poems bound in leather and read a couple of them to her. He rarely initiated conversation with her at any time except late at night when she changed his bandages before bed, and then it was all about her work, but she felt his eyes on her sometimes, and though it might be her imagination, they seemed to burn her skin through her clothes and gave her chills at the same time.

Tonight she sat before her vanity in a sleeping chemise that was little more than lingerie, and she could not pretend that she didn't wear it on purpose, despite that she knew she would wear it to bed alone. The garment modestly covered her legs to the knees. The straps were mere, thin silk ribbons and the front cut provocatively low, but she always wrapped herself in a cotton robe before she went to see Heero. She knew that he would come to her door in a few hours to ask her to change his bandages, and when he did she would be more modestly attired. Still, she wore the chemise because she wanted to feel sexually attractive, even though she knew it would yield nothing. Heero's will was iron hard. She could go to him naked and begging and even if he wanted her, he would not hesitate to turn her out. Heero believed in following his instincts to do what was right, but he was not ruled by them. From their many conversations she understood his reasons for keeping her at a distance, and so she expected nothing and did not press him, but she still wanted him. In her mind they were always and forever intimate, and since this was her home she indulged her fantasy and dressed as if it might come true.

So it was that she was surprised when a knock came at her door, much earlier than usual. She had not even begun to think about her paperwork yet—there were stacks heaped in piles on the floor by her bed—and she hadn't the chance to throw on a robe. She scrambled to her feet and belted out a hasty "just a minute" to give herself time to dress properly, but Heero opened the door to her room without waiting and stood in her doorway bare to the waist and wrapped in bandages.

He looked drawn to her, weary despite all the rest she knew he was getting. He took his medication sparingly so that he could still get his work done, but she had reports from Candace Mae that he slept most of the hours that she was at work, and that when he wasn't sleeping, he still rested a great deal. His injuries were improving thankfully, slowly but surely, so she did not understand why he always looked so fatigued.

"Are you in pain?" she asked worriedly.

"I didn't take my meds today," he said reluctantly. "There was too much work to do."

"I'm coming," she said. Although she knew he didn't strictly need her to tend to his wounds, she believed that he found her comforting, so she merely grabbed the medical bag that lay on the floor by her bed and followed him out of her room and down the corridor into his. He kept pace beside her in the darkness, his tall, powerful body imposing to her even with his bare torso wrapped in white gauze. Without slowing, he opened the door to his room for her and allowed her to duck under his arm.

The lamp was burning by the bed, but the room was otherwise dark. She didn't bother to turn on the lights. There was enough to see by and the darkness soothed her nerves, for this part of the day always made her a little nervous. Heero never flinched when she unwound the bandages and applied the salves to the burns on his back, but sometimes she saw the skin twitch and the burns looked twice as angry and painful in a steady light as opposed to a dim one. Tonight Heero sat cross-legged on the bed as she knelt on her bare feet behind him. The process was familiar and she did it silently as usual, hardly daring to breathe lest she reveal her consternation and give him reason to be concerned. When at last the new bandages were wrapped around his torso and secured into place, Heero twisted to face her as he usually did of late.

"How was work?" he asked in sober tones that were, strangely, almost uninterested.

"I've barely begun tonight," she told him. "There's a lot to do, but there's always a lot to do. When one project is finished there are always others that need attention."

He was silent for a moment, staring beyond her shoulder at something she couldn't see. She watched him patiently, expecting the follow-up question about her day tomorrow that he usually asked in tones that belied his concern, or perhaps a suggestion that he help her with her paperwork, an offer which she could never openly accept even though she appreciated his support. As she waited she watched Heero's chest rise and fall and listened to him breathe heavily.

"Relena," he said, and she listened ominously, sensing an announcement she had not anticipated. "I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" Her heart beat like a drum, and she wondered if this was the reason he had asked her to come early tonight. If so then he must be expecting opposition to whatever he was about to propose.

"I need to leave," he said suddenly, and she was so startled she didn't know what to say. Heero was still staring beyond her at the wall, his throat flashing as he swallowed. "I need to leave here soon."

"You can't leave," she protested. "You are not well yet. Maybe in another week, after you've had a doctor's visit…"

"There's a reason I have to go."

"No. If you are being hunted, this is the safest place for you," she told him. "No one knows you are here and no one would think of looking. Why must you go?" When he didn't answer, she repeated the question. "Why must you go? Heero? Heero, look at me."

He looked down at her and her breath stopped in her throat, cutting off her words abruptly. There was something ferocious in his eyes as he stared at her, something that frightened her though she didn't know what it was or why it should make her feel so deeply uneasy. He seemed to be fighting with something in his mind, wrestling with something that would not yield to his reason, and she was somehow the center of the battle. Her lips parted to ask about this mystery, but she found herself mesmerized, unable to speak, and she registered with surprise that her silence seemed to Heero the deadliest of weapons.

"God help me, I can't," he said suddenly, and Relena found herself pulled into his arms and crushed by a bruising kiss.

Heero's embrace was so delicious that she succumbed without a whimper of protest or a single analytical thought. Her whimper was of a different, desperate sort, and when his hands snaked from around her back and eased her down on the bed underneath him by the wrists, she did not struggle or complain. Leaning over her, he kissed her until she forgot who she was and could scarcely comprehend what they were doing. His hands left her wrists to smooth her hair from her head, his strong masculine fingers cradling her neck as he kissed her deeply and urgently, his tongue prying its way past her lips to explore every cavern of her mouth.

"Oh!" she whispered in the lapses where she could breathe, her murmurs frantic and urgent, demanding his touch that had been so long denied her.

"Relena," he said softly, almost conversationally, and there hovered on the edge of his breathy whisper something more, something that lingered at the tip of his tongue but did not fall upon her except in a shower of kisses up and down her neck and collarbone and melting into her mouth.

She could not bridge the gaps between the missing words. She had never known Heero like this. With the way he held her, the way he kissed her now, all thought vanished and flames leapt up in her breast and spread throughout her entire body until she was aching with fire. Heero kissed her and kissed her until her mouth was sore from his tender touches, and yet still she craved more. She wanted to draw all of him inside her and hold him there until they both exploded, and it did not occur to her that this was exactly what he intended they should do.

His toned, muscled body was both hard and hot to the touch, and there was the ever-burning, wanting lust in his eyes that had become familiar to her, but all of that was overlapped with a caring, gentle tenderness that surprised her with its intensity. Recognition leapt in her breast. Her heart cried out "love," an emotion she now saw as well as sensed. The room suddenly steamed with body heat and smoldering ardor at last unleashed. Heero looked into her eyes and seemed to understand her sudden elation, but he said nothing. Instead he kissed her, slowly, languidly, thoroughly, a storm of kisses that was as beautiful as it was torturous. She accepted these gratefully, but at length, even Heero demonstrated that he was unsatisfied with kisses alone.

Sometime later, Relena came to to Heero cradling her head again, his lips kissing her cheekbones and eyelids, his arms tenderly holding her against his chest. For a moment she thought she had swooned, but realized that it was only a drop in euphoria that had momentarily overwhelmed her senses. She kissed Heero back, seeking his lips with hers hungrily, and her stomach trembled as he answered her. She had never before indulged in so much affection following a tempest like the one that had just past, and she did not know if she had ever wanted to be held so much as she did now.

"Do you love me?" she whispered, and half sat up as she asked. "Heero, do you love me after all?"

He reached behind his head to untwine her arms from around his neck and laid her gently back on the bed in front of him. He stared at her a moment in silence, his eyes running up her bare legs to her flat stomach and stopping where her chemise still lay rumpled and useless over her breasts. Still without a word, he pulled the chemise up over her head and tossed it over the edge of the bed. Then he carefully pulled the blankets down around them both, climbing into bed with her until they were both covered by the sheets and nothing else. Still occasionally kissing her hair, her neck, her shoulders, and her lips, he pulled her body against his chest from behind. His strong arm trapped her around the waist and chest, and she reflected for a moment that she had never felt as safe as she did at that moment, practically harnessed against Heero in the dim light of the room.

"This is a fantasy," he whispered, nibbling at her ear until she almost felt that she could be aroused again. "Do we need to discuss how things really are?"

"No," she said.

She was content. Heero would leave eventually. Maybe in a week or two, maybe sooner, but in the meantime he had chosen to stop fighting and just enjoy what time they had together. She did not ask again if he loved her. She knew he did, was certain in her heart that something had come over Heero that had induced him to change his mind, to make a decision about her for the time being. Maybe it wouldn't last past these precious weeks, but it was real. He did love her. He was just too stubborn to say so.

She slept in Heero's arms that night and never moved a muscle. He didn't move either. His arm stayed around her body from the time he shut his eyes to when the first trickles of morning light streamed in between the cracks in the blinds. They both would have slept like the dead all morning if a sudden rustle hadn't jarred them both from sleep.

Relena awoke with a start as the blinds were pulled up at dawn, light spilling into the room in a sudden flood. She felt Heero's arms wrap protectively around her and half sat up in a panic, scanning the rest of the room in terror.

"My apologies," Candace Mae said from beside the window. She looked on them with implacable calm, oblivious to their nakedness or simply not caring. "The pair of you make a pretty picture, but I wouldn't be doing my job if I let you sleep all day knowing as I do that the lady Relena has an important meeting in an hour."

"Oh, hell," Relena swore prettily, and would have leaped out of bed if Heero's arms hadn't tightened around her waist and forced her back into the crook between him and the mattress.

Ignoring them, Candace Mae glided serenely out of the room, pausing only to mutter the time on her way out as she softly shut the door.

"Heero, let me go," Relena begged, struggling against the man whose body might have been sculpted from rock.

He kissed her with a smile and her protests gradually abated. His hands caressed her breasts and his fingers threaded through her hair and her stomach leaped and careened and dropped in response.

"Later," she begged when she had breadth. "I'll be home later. Please."

He kissed her lips until she stopped trying to talk, and in the silence that followed, he held her chin between is forefinger and his thumb until her eyelids fluttered open. He stared at her with eyes that glowed sapphire blue with warmth and passion and emotion, and she felt her whole body trembling more from his eyes than his touch. For a moment she thought he was going to say something, something precious that she wanted to hear, but he only smiled and thumbed her cheek.

"I'll be waiting," he whispered.

TBC


	8. Complication

Disclaimer: I don't own, profit, or intend to profit from the characters in this story that I did not create. Adult maturity is a prerequisite for reading this work of fiction. Legally, you must be at least 18 years old to read this story, 21 in some States, and probably not under the supervision of your parents. I am not responsible for your choice to read this story nor for the effects it could potentially have on you.

Amour

Chapter 8

By Zapenstap

The days that passed after that first memorable night blazed like brushfire in August.

During the day, Relena worked like an engine at her office. She did not stop for coffee and she ate lunch at her desk. She worked with the desire to complete as much of her important duties in the office as possible so that her evenings could be free of everything but lounging and lovemaking with Heero. When she was at home, she still managed to attend to her duties as usual. She conversed with her staff, managed her household, went through her mail and ate dinner, but sooner or later Heero would find her wherever she was in the house, and she was powerless to stop him from pulling her into a secluded space and impressing upon her the importance of the time they spent together alone. She took to spending the whole of her nights wrapped in his arms.

No one seemed to mind. In fact, Relena had the distinct impression that Candace Mae at least heartily approved of Relena's houseguest, and whatever Candace Mae approved of became like a religion to all the staff in the household. Relena once choked on her tea when Candace Mae referred to Heero as "a most functionary male." She seemed to think that Heero was some sort of exotic decoration that was finally showing itself to be useful. Heero said nothing at all about the change in circumstances, but he seemed even more bewildered than Relena by Candace Mae's frank approval.

One morning at work, Relena sat at her desk thinking about how nice Heero's well-defined body was to touch—the thought registering as vaguely inappropriate while looking through papers about children starving in the L3 Colonies—when a call came through to her office.

"Mr. Calhoun to see you, Miss Relena."

"Send him in," she replied.

Alexander Calhoun was a respected diplomat on the counsel of the ESUN and naturally someone Relena knew professionally quite well. He was thirty-five, arrestingly tall with dark brown hair, green eyes, and a charming smile that sent women the world over into a tizzy whenever he walked into a room. If Relena allowed herself to have a "type" Alexander would have fit it to a T. Fortunately, he didn't make much of an impression on her romantically—she was far too wrapped up in Heero to give him or anyone much notice—but after she broke up with Gregory Balen there had been jokes among politicians about what beautiful children they would make together. The jokes were founded on nothing more than that they happened to both be residents of the same city, and unmarried (and presumably single) politicians. It was rare for diplomats to be unmarried, especially at Alexander's age, so speculation about who they would or should marry was bound to occur. Relena ignored this kind of chatter with dignity. Alexander, as far as she had heard, would occasionally join in the joke about it, but nothing more.

"Good morning, Vice Foreign Minister Darlian," Alexander remarked as she stood to shake his hand and offer him a chair.

He was a man of decency, and more polite than many of the other men with whom Relena worked more regularly. It occurred to her that it was odd that he was not married. If he was a play boy, he kept it well concealed—which was possible since that kind of thing generally looked unfavorable on a politician's resume. However, on the occasions Relena had had a chance to observe him he came off as rather traditional and even thoughtful where women were concerned.

"Good to see you, Alexander," Relena replied. "How may I help you today?"

"Busy as usual I see," he laughed. "Straight to the point. No time for small talk. I trust all is going well at home and with work?"

"As well as ever," she replied. "And you?"

"Naturally."

There was a moment of silence as Relena waited for Alexander Calhoun to present the business he had come to see her about and Alexander himself hesitated. It was odd. He was usually relaxed and gregarious in conversation. His decisive demeanor, intelligence, eloquent speaking abilities and photogenic face had won him his current position at a relatively young age.

"I need to ask you a favor, Miss Darlian," he began smoothly after the initial pause. "It's partly business, but it does have a personal element. I have received an invite—plus one—to a soirée at the summer home of the honorable Judge Florence. I trust you know him?"

"Certainly," Relena replied. "He's at the center of some hot topics under debate." They were social topics for the most part, about laws built from traditions regarding matters of the family, children, spouses, the elderly and the like. The bulk of Relena's work was concerned with the negotiations between Earth and Space, mostly political and economical, but she monitored local affairs as a matter of principle. The judge in question was once a member of Romafeller; a highly conservative—and locally popular—individual.

"Yes, well let's not beat around the bush since it is common knowledge that you detest that sort of thing. It is advantageous to my career to attend Florence's party, but I'm afraid I do not have a companion suitable as a plus one. I confess, I have reason to want to make a good impression, and in going through a list of possible guests, I stumbled across your name. People have been telling me for years that I ought to ask you out. We have known each other mostly professionally, but if you are free next Saturday night, I would enjoy your company. I can't think that it wouldn't also benefit you to have a plus one for these sorts of occasions."

It took Relena a moment to realize that she was staring. Was he asking her to simply accompany him to a party… or was this a date meant to progress beyond an evening? Either way, what should she do? She had just admitted to falling in love—with Heero. Even if she and Calhoun became friends, people would assume otherwise. She had to admit that it would be beneficial to have someone to take to functions. Gregory used to go, but she couldn't take Heero, especially not now. No one was supposed to know that they were in any way involved. More importantly, if she refused Calhoun's offer, would it _appear_ that she was involved with someone else? There was no good reason to refuse. If Calhoun talked to anyone about this offer, refusing would cause more speculation than accepting. People would wonder what was wrong with Relena. They might investigate her personal behavior. What if Heero's connection to her was rooted out?

A knock at the door saved Relena from having to respond immediately and a moment later one of the office secretaries popped her head through the door. "A message has just arrived for you from Preventor Headquarters, Miss Relena."

Alexander Calhoun smiled at her. "This seems a matter of some importance," he said, and rose from his chair.

"Thank you, Alexander," Relena replied, rising to shake his hand. "I don't know if my schedule is open next Saturday, but your proposition sounds like a plausible idea. Do you mind if I get back to you tomorrow?"

"Not at all. I'll anticipate your response."

As soon as Alexander Calhoun left, Relena forgot all about him. Instead she beckoned her secretary to bring in the message and was left alone to read it. Messages from Preventor Headquarters were a common occurrence. Relena was routinely kept informed of developing situations that might need her diplomatic hand, but she suspected that this message was not about diplomacy.

She stared at the envelope for a moment in silence before swiftly breaking the seal. Her heart fluttered with anxiety as she read, and all her trivial concerns were forgotten. The words were brief, scrawled by hand on yellow parchment paper. The message was addressed to nobody. It gave very little information, but Relena understood the portent of it. It was not directed at her.

"Who are they?" Relena asked. "Why are they hunting you?"

Heero had few possessions to pack. He elected to take some of the equipment Relena had ordered for his use with him, but most of it he was leaving behind, wiped clean of all information and dismantled as if it had never been used. In terms of clothing, he needed only what he was wearing, plus the medical supplies he needed to change his bandages once he was gone.

"It's better if you don't know much," Heero told her from where he stood by the window, twitching back the curtain to survey the street. "It's enough to know that it's safer for us both if I leave. The Preventors have set up a protection program for keeping those of us in danger out of the enemy's hands. You should be content knowing that I will be safe."

"For how long?" she whispered. "How long must you go into hiding?"

"Until the situation changes," Heero told her, and then added softly, "It might take awhile."

When she said nothing, Heero left the window and came toward her. He moved like a panther, aggressive even when there was no danger in his approach. He took her hand in his and pulled her close to his chest, kissing her hair.

"Don't worry about me," he told her. "Live your life well so I don't have to worry about you."

"That's not fair," she protested into his shirt. "You sound as if we shall never see each other again. I want to worry about you. I want you to worry about me. Who else is going to make sure I don't work too hard? Who is going to make sure I think things through, even to the hard conclusions? Who will hold me while I sleep?"

Heero's responded to this entreaty stoically, as expected. "It's not worth speculating about," he told her, "and I'm in no position to make promises to you. You've always known this." He let her go and took a step back. Turning to the bed, he surveyed the small suitcase in which he had organized all of his things.

His cold decisiveness made her angry, not angry enough to react, but it disappointed and confused her. She understood the situation and Heero's feelings about it. She knew he had no plans for a family or a future with her regardless of how gratifying it might turn out to be for both of them. He had no plans for a future of any kind. He no longer sought his own death, but he was as dedicated to his job as she was to hers. She understood, perhaps better than anyone could, but she wanted more all the same.

"I _want_ you to make me promises," she said emphatically. "I don't care if you can't live up to them. It's your intentions that matter to me. I want you to make some indication that you understand that what we have is _good_, that it would be a tragedy to lose it!"

She watched his eyes as she spoke. He kept his face averted, his eyes focused on the suitcase, but the concentration he gave to the task of packing made her feel that his thoughts were more engaged elsewhere.

"Heero," she continued. "To find someone who understands me as you do… I understand that you never considered the reverse for yourself, that it was never a struggle for you to find someone who understood you because it was not something you expected or looked for, but the chemistry we have together…you should at least know that it is rare. I love you."

Heero snapped his suitcase shut and set it on the floor at the foot of the bed. He turned to look at her, his eyes suddenly soft and warmed by a light that came from somewhere inside. "You need me to convince you that I don't want to say goodbye?"

Relena's heart leapt in her throat. "I don't want to wonder if I'm expendable to you, if I'm unnecessary, or even a hindrance. I want to know that deep in your heart you want me, and that it is the situation and not your preference that is keeping us apart." His eyes became suddenly so intense that she had to look away.

As she averted her eyes, Heero seized her wrist. Instead of pulling her into him, he pushed her back, following up behind her until she was trapped in a sliver of space between his body and the wall. His chest and shoulders filled the space before her eyes and she registered only the movement of his muscles as he pushed the back of her hand against the wall and bent his head to her neck. Her chin tilted back of its own accord, her breathing quickening in response to Heero's lips on her skin.

She didn't try to resist. Head swimming, skin flaming, knees buckling, she half sagged against the wall until only Heero's hand on her wrist kept her from sinking to the floor.

She could barely bring herself to look him in the face, and when she did she knew she must look lustful, and from the way Heero suddenly forced his knee between her thighs, she knew that Heero liked the expression. He had her pinned to the wall, her wrist limp under his fingers and her body straddling his thigh. She was dependent upon him for support now, and all she wanted was to be closer to him.

"I care about you more than any soul I've ever known," he whispered. He looked her in the eyes as he said it, and she began to breathe deeply. "It is partly a preference that I don't make you any promises. I don't know if I can keep them, and that _does_ matter, at least to me, but I can tell you that what we have now is precious." They looked at one another in silence, Heero having said all he could say and Relena feeling unable to speak.

With her left hand trapped against the wall, Relena used her right to undo the buttons of her cardigan.

After, Relena felt more alert than ever. Every extremity of her body tingled, and when Heero cast her a wry glance over his shoulder from where he stood by the window, with just the barest hint of a smile suggested in the curve of his lips, she felt her heart palpitate.

Heero climbed back into bed with her, kissing her shoulder and touching the matted mess of hair that framed her face. "I wish I wasn't leaving," he whispered. She thought from the softness in his eyes that he was feeling… sentimental. He slid his body around hers and pulled the covers up over them both, caressing her skin under the sheets. Relena stayed still, her head on the pillow, staring at Heero's chest as he lay beside her.

"Will you come back?" she asked. "I know you can't know when, but when it is all over, will you come back?"

"I hope to," he said. "If I survive and doing so is not too dangerous. If it's too long, you don't have to be faithful to me."

She sat up a little, looking into his face to see if he was serious. His expression was flat. "Don't be stupid," she said. "I don't want to be with anyone else. Why? Do you think you will…?" She tried and failed to smother a surge of jealousy at just the thought of Heero sharing his body with another woman.

"I don't know what will happen. If a few months turn into a few years, I don't want you to feel bereft of anything you might need or want. I've told you from the beginning that I can't commit to you. If you saw someone else …"

"Stop it. Don't belittle my feelings for you. This situation can't keep you forever. I will wait, as long as it takes."

Consternation entered his eyes, an expression with which she was all too familiar. "Relena…" She knew by his tone that he was going to try to talk sense into her.

"A man at work asked me out today," she told him. Heero's sudden stony silence upon this revelation told her nothing. "Alexander Calhoun," she said. "I've known him for years. He's a diplomat for ESUN. I didn't give him an answer, but…"

"You should accept," Heero said.

That hurt. She lowered her eyes.

"It might arouse curiosity if you refuse," Heero continued. "And create an alibi for us if you accept. No one would suspect you of dating two men. If any suspicion has fallen your way, it will be deterred by your seeing someone. At this time, it might be a good idea."

It was a coldly delivered rationality, so cold that it made her wonder.

"Do you love me?" she asked. "I know I said I wouldn't ask, but I need to know."

He looked at her without speaking for a minute, his eyes like glass mirrors that shimmered faintly in the dim light of the room. When he spoke, it was in an almost inaudible whisper, "As much as I can right now."

She didn't know what to say. She wasn't sure she knew what that meant. "I will go on the date," she said, and then added swiftly before Heero could interrupt, "to protect us, but that's all." She met his eyes with a steely gaze of her own. "I will wait for you," she repeated. The finality of her tone ended the conversation.

Heero didn't accept her vow, but he didn't object to it either. Feeling cooler, she leaned her head against his shoulder and relaxed as he wrapped an arm around her upper body. They remained like that for several minutes, and Relena felt she may have even dozed off for a few. Then, much to her surprise, she felt a change in the way Heero's hands were stoking the skin on her arm and blinked her mind awake.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" he asked her in a quiet voice as soon as her eyes opened.

"I have a few important meetings in the afternoon. Why?"

"I want to take a little longer to say goodbye," he whispered, and turned her face toward his to kiss.

Heero left sometime during the night, slipping out when Relena was not aware and eluding her security in such a way that she didn't even know which direction he had gone.

Relena went on the date as she told Heero she would. She called Alexander back the afternoon of Heero's departure and accepted the invitation. She wore a pretty dress for the occasion. Over all, she had a good time and was not surprised when a second date was offered after the first. She went on this one too, and enjoyed dinner and a night at the opera house. As suspected, the local magazines reported on it, and tabloids published wildly speculative articles concerning the future of the two diplomats. After two dates, Relena felt she had seen enough of Calhoun to refuse a third if he should ask—without creating a stir. However, she knew Calhoun was a sharp bargainer. If he enjoyed their time together as much as he claimed, he might be difficult to shake.

It didn't help that she was moody. Since Heero's absence, she went through phases of depression. She also felt more stress than usual, enough that she started getting headaches and backaches, and in the evenings especially she missed Heero's strong hands. She was also exhausted, sometimes without reason. Even when she made sure to sleep enough, she felt fatigued at work and often uninterested in her job.

One afternoon, she found herself sitting in front of the window just watching the rain fall. For no explainable reason, tears began to roll down her cheeks. She didn't feel sad. She wasn't angry or frightened. Perhaps she was lonely, but she still felt inclined to berate herself for such a display of weakness. As she scrubbed the betraying tears from her face, the door opened to admit her house manager.

"My goodness, whatever is the matter?" Candace Mae asked, shutting the door to Relena's bedroom.

"I don't know," she said, coughing to disguise the hitch in her voice. "I feel ridiculous, but I miss Heero."

"Well, crying about it is a waste of water. It doesn't seem he is likely to come back any time soon to wipe your tears. If I were you, I would attend to your duties. It's not like you to be this despondent. If I didn't know better…" She paused, looking up at Relena from where she had been inspecting the tablecloth on the dining room table. "Forgive me for asking, but are you premenstrual?"

Relena blinked. "No," she said. "That would have been…" She paused in mid-sentence. Her use of the future perfect tense was too grammatically correct for her peace of mind. She ought to have been menstruating already, if not last week. Her pulse quickening as she counted the days. "Oh, my god."

Candace Mae's lips tightened. "Well," she said casually, but with a firmness that forbade argument. "If that is the case, you had better get tested."

"I _can't_ be pregnant," Relena protested.

"Don't be stupid. Of course you can. Get tested."

"No, I was protected. I was careful."

"There is always a margin for error. Get tested, girl. If you are stressed, you need to rule this out so your mind will be easier. If you are pregnant, you need to make some decisions very quickly. Get tested."

Seeing that this was good sense, Relena complied. The procedure for the test was simple, but the waiting was terrifying. She had given the results to her House Manager to read when the right amount of time had passed. She paced the white carpet in her sitting room while Candace Mae poured tea. It didn't help that Candace Mae seemed so calm and complacent about the whole thing.

"Well?" she asked when she was sure it had been enough time.

"Have some tea," Candace Mae suggested. Relena wanted to shout, but rather than fight her House Manager, she sat down, regally lifting her tea cup and taking a sip before placing the cup back on the saucer and looking her oldest servant pointedly in the face.

"According to the test, you're going to have a baby," Candace Mae told her. "You should probably get a doctor to confirm it, preferably someone you can trust."

Relena stared at nothing. She felt no emotion, neither joy nor fear. "I can't believe this," she said.

Candace Mae regarded her silently for a moment, her face a stern mask. "I know you are against it, but in a situation like this, it might be wise to consider aborting the pregnancy."

Relena blinked, staring at her House Manager in shock. "I couldn't possibly do that." It was Heero's baby. Abort it? Impossible.

"_He_ might advise you to as well. I don't know the situation fully, but it seems your man is not able to claim this child as his own. I detect that the secrecy of your relationship with him is a necessity founded on more than the importance of your career image."

"I can't abort," Relena said. "I won't."

"Then you must find another way to protect this child. If you have a baby, there will be questions about the paternity of the child unless it is made clear to the whole world who the father is."

"What are you suggesting?" Relena asked, alarmed by the grim finality in Candace Mae's tone.

"You must find a man to be its father. Obviously it must be a different man than your Heero, someone who will not arouse suspicion."

"You want me to find someone to pretend to be the baby's father?" she demanded. She couldn't suppress incredulity from entering her tone. "Where would I find someone like that?"

"It would be unlikely to find someone you could trust to play that role," Candace Mae agreed. "But that is not what I meant. More simply, you need to find another man to sleep with, as quickly as decency allows."

"You can't be serious…"

"…and then lie to that man that _he_ is the father," Candace Mae continued as if she had not objected. "Pregnancy can happen on one try. It will be alarming, but it is a plausible scenario."

"I can't do that," she said. "It would terribly deceitful."

"It can be cleared up when it is safe to do so. Consider the alternative."

Relena considered, and saw the problem. If the Vice Foreign Minister had a baby out of a relationship, or even out of wedlock, it would be the biggest story to hit the news in years. Everyone would want to know who the father was. It would be ten thousand times worse than refusing a date with Calhoun would have been. She and Heero had been careful but not that careful. There had to have been witnesses. People who might otherwise not care would be tempted to share whatever they had seen. Relena wasn't even certain her own staff would be discrete if the reward for betraying her trust was high enough.

"What do I do?" she asked. She realized she was shaking, from stress or fear or anxiety she wasn't sure, but she could barely keep her arms and legs from shaking. She was going to have a baby?

"Calm yourself. Your position is manageable. You are young and healthy and you love the father of your child. Have some hope that you will be united at some point in the future, but for now, consider the present. You need someone to play the role of the father, preferably someone you like well enough, but also someone you can lie to and are not likely to fall in love with. Fortunately, you are not in need of any financial assistance. You have everything you need. You must merely maintain the ruse of a relationship for a short while in order to secure the paternity of the child in the World's view."

"What if Heero hears of it?" she said. "You know he will. Everyone will. Will he know what has happened, or will he think I have betrayed my promise to him?"

"It doesn't matter," Candace Mae said. "You have no way to contact each other so you will not be affected by his reaction. You must concern yourself with the baby. Now, who will be the father?"

"Alexander Calhoun," Relena said softly, hating herself for even being able to voice the idea, and yet it couldn't be more perfect. Alexander had shown signs of wanting to progress to a physical level. It wouldn't be difficult to arrange, but the arrangement was a grotesque notion. Alexander was attractive enough, but he was not someone she loved, or even liked greatly, and using him this way was nothing but evil. And yet, it was her baby at stake, a helpless infant whose life could be potentially threatened if anyone discovered its father was a gundam pilot—a man wanted by terrorists who could use his connection to her as collateral. She had to be strong.

"Good," Candace Mae said. "How quickly do you think you could get him to believe he has conceived the child? It has already been a couple of weeks. You don't want to be off by another day if you can help it."

TBC


	9. Proposal

Amour

Chapter 9

By Zapenstap

"Let me take your coat."

The door to Alexander's penthouse apartment closed behind her heels as Relena stepped across the threshold and into the foyer. Alex stood just beside her, his hand hovering just behind her back as the latch clicked shut.

She realized she was shivering and willed herself to stop.

"Yes, thank you," Relena replied, and began to unbutton the long, azure blue dress coat that swathed her from shoulders to calves.

Alexander Calhoun stepped directly behind her back to assist her in shrugging the garment. The gentle pressure of his hands on her shoulders elicited a slight tremble she hoped he didn't notice. Relena did not think he would believe she was chilly, and she could not afford to let him think she was nervous.

As Alexander turned away to hang her coat on the elegant, antique coat rack just beside the door, Relena put a hand to her abdomen. She thought about the life that was just beginning to spark inside of her, the one she had not looked to create, the one she did not know if she was ready for. Ready or not, she had to protect it.

She looked over her shoulder. As far as she could tell after three dates, Alexander Calhoun was attractive and decent and kind. His company was pleasant. They got along on most political points and shared similar family backgrounds in many respects. Ten years ago, her mother would have invited him to her debutante party in hopes of their making a connection. She willed herself to forget how she had changed in those ten years, and most especially who had changed her.

"Would you like something to drink?" Alexander asked her as he passed by her shoulder and led the way to the kitchen.

"Just water, thank you," Relena replied, and followed his lead.

He poured her wine. She would have downed the whole glass in a swallow if she could have convinced herself it would do no harm to the baby. As it was, she saw the need to skip the time usually spent in getting comfortable. She crossed the dividing line between the living room and the kitchen and joined Alexander behind the counter. Carefully, artfully, she laid a hand on his arm. He had rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands, and she took advantage of the opportunity to touch him. Her fingertips trailed delicately, affectionately, across his skin.

"Alexander…"

She meant to say more, something strategically complimentary, demure and suggestive, but when he turned to look at her she fell silent. He had a striking face, intelligent eyes, and a fit and attractive build. Relena focused on those things for all she was worth.

"Call me Alex."

"Alex," she began again, and trailed off, blushing and flustered by the scent of cologne that suddenly assaulted her senses as Alex leaned into her personal space. By chance or fate, it was the same cologne Heero wore. By hovering in her space, Calhoun seemed to be testing her, seeing how she would react to proximity. He fingered her hair, another thing Heero always did once he mustered the courage to touch her. She had only a moment's respite to think—of Heero—and naturally she held the thought, closing her eyes to enjoy it as Alexander—Alex—leaned in to kiss her.

Heero sat on a worn couch in front of a coffee table with a laptop on his knees. His cup of coffee—cold now and only half-drained—was likely to leave a ring on the unprotected wood surface.

Not that it mattered. His hideout strongly resembled a bachelor's pad. The walls were bare. The furniture was old, scratched, and appeared to be burned in places. The only valuable items in the place was the technology equipment and security system, which was so modern, it was invisible unless one knew where to look.

Heero had arrived here by helicopter. He had not been told where he was going, but he was not surprised to find that he wasn't living alone. Trowa and Duo had been brought into protective custody as well, and as far as Heero could determine, only a few people even knew that they had been gathered together. The funding came from the Preventor's budget, under Une's approval, but the operation was planned and carried out by Sally Po.

It was not entirely a bachelor's pad. Duo had brought Hilde into hiding with him and the evidence of her habitation showed in the floral-scented air freshener in the bathroom, the full set of cooking ware under the oven, the spotless counter tops, and the checkered hand towels freshly laundered. Duo had refused to come unless Hilde could be taken in too. Heero didn't blame him. If anyone had known about his connection to Relena, or his feelings for her, he would have insisted on hiding her as well. Except that she wouldn't have come; he knew it as sure as he knew her. Her work was too important.

Hilde made daily comments about their living conditions. She mentioned the chipped plates, the mismatched silverware, the ragged furniture, the dust and mold, and the holes in the plaster. She found something new every day. Her comments were not complaints, though. From what Heero could tell, she mentioned these things because she seemed to enjoy Duo's animated facial expressions whenever she pointed out something about her living situation, something ugly, or funny or gross, that was less than what he would have wanted for her. The more Duo grimaced, the more she laughed.

Heero watched them passively. They got along well. They seemed happy.

He was not jealous exactly. And he refused to think that he was lonely, especially since he felt crowded here. But every time Hilde slid onto Duo's knee on laid her head on his shoulder his thoughts would wander to the last time he held Relena, and he would struggle with territorial urges about the man who was holding her now.

That the Vice Foreign Minster was seeing someone again had become international news quickly and traveled even to their secluded bunker. Heero thought he was happy for her. He was relieved that she was safe anyway. Strategically speaking, finding someone to replace him was the best scenario possible, especially considering the price on his head and the danger his existence caused her. That she had done it so quickly left a bit of a sting, but he consoled himself with the practical side. It would put her at risk if there was the least suspicion of their involvement, and the sooner she was with another man, the better. Besides, even without all of that, he still doubted his ability to commit to her or anyone. So it was better all around. He thought he believed that.

Still, when he caught Duo and Hilde whispering in the darkness of the corridor, Duo stroking her slim fingers as she looked into his eyes, it was not happiness for their quiet moment together that had spurned Heero to find a place well away from Duo's room. It wasn't jealousy either. But at that moment his insides clenched. He thought about Relena, about the softness of her hands and glow of her eyes, and then he thought about the man she was with and his blood started to boil.

So he had removed himself to the couch downstairs and busied himself in work, checking for leads on the terrorist organization that was making it so difficult for him to move around. While he worked, his coffee grew cold, and after an hour or so, Duo came down the stairs and went into the kitchen. Heero tried to ignore him.

"Hey, Heero," Duo said, approaching him with his own cup of coffee, freshly made and steaming hot. "Did you hear about Relena? Hilde just heard from Sally."

Heero continued typing. He hadn't heard anything about Relena since he learned she was seeing Alexander Calhoun. Gossip was hard to come by in the bunker and he really tried to avoid hearing anything about Relena. It was too great a distraction.

"No," Heero said, feigning indifference.

Duo sat on the couch across from him. He put his coffee mug on the table and swung his legs up on the cushions, leaning back to rest his head against his wrists.

"She's pregnant."

Heero stopped typing. Duo was staring at the ceiling and didn't seem to notice. Heero could feel the shock on his own face. His chest felt tight. Had he stopped breathing? By the time Duo turned his head to gauge Heero's reaction to this news, Heero had at least shut his mouth and flattened his expression.

"It's not tabloid either," Duo continued. "Hilde says she was starting to show and made an official announcement about it. She must be a couple of months in then, huh? She's seeing some government official. It's a big shock to the public, her being pregnant before married, but I guess they're talking about marriage now so it will probably blow over. Have you been keeping up with her at all?"

"No," Heero forced out. His fingers were numb. He could barely make sense of what he was seeing on the monitor. Pregnant. How long would it take for a woman to show? How much was she showing? He tried to do the math, but the phrase "talking about marriage" kept intruding. He wanted to get up and leave the room, but he didn't want to appear as agitated as he felt. He tried to keep his voice as even as possible. "When is she due?"

More importantly, when did she _conceive_? He wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be.

"Dunno," Duo said. "Maybe she doesn't want people speculating." He yawned. "You know, if this thing ever calms down, I'd like to marry Hilde. It's too hard right now.   
I'd worry, especially if you start factoring in kids and…"

Duo rambled on. Heero pretended to lose interest. The monitor screen was still a blur in front of his eyes. Relena was keeping the timing of conception from the public. Everyone would assume it was Calhoun's child. Was it? Heero could see two distinct possibilities. It was obvious, but not absolute. Was Relena strong enough for a subterfuge? He suspected she might be. She had never lacked in determination when it suited her, sometimes to the point of insanity. But that didn't mean this child was actually his. Did he want it to be?

"Uh, Heero?"

Heero realized belatedly that Duo had been speaking to him. He looked up.

"Are you bothered by this?" Duo asked, intrusive curiosity dripping from every pore. He propped himself up on his elbow, staring at Heero across the table top. "I know you don't care about Hilde in me, but have you heard anything I said? Are you still stuck on Relena? It's been ages."

Heero was glad Trowa was not in the room. It was more difficult to hide subtleties from Trowa. But if even Duo could guess that he was agitated, how must he look?

"I always thought you had a thing for her," Duo said absently. "Shame you never moved on it. She really liked you."

Safe.

Heero looked back at the screen. "I don't want to cause her trouble," he said.

"And what he means by that," came Trowa's voice from the stairwell, "is that he's not the right guy to provide for her. Is there any coffee left?" He passed them behind the couch and headed for the kitchen.

Duo snorted. "You guys are just determined to be depressed. Just because we didn't die in the war doesn't mean we have to live like the dead. I wouldn't trade Hilde for anything. She makes it all worth it."

"Hilde isn't famous," Heero responded without thinking. "You'd feel differently if something happened to her."

Trowa and Duo exchanged looks over his head. Heero kept his face blank. He really must be unhinged to speak so frankly. Thoughts and ideas kept darting through his head. He tried to calculate the last time he and Relena had slept together, tried to configure her monthly cycle in relevance to the weeks he had stayed at her place. What would he do if the baby was his? What would he do if it wasn't? There was one satisfactory image of him breaking Calhoun's jaw, but upon introspection he had to concede that that wasn't fair. For her own good or not, Heero had been the one to leave Relena, and whether his baby or not, Calhoun was the one still with her. His head felt so light, he was afraid he might pass out.

"I'll be upstairs," Heero said, ignoring Trowa's raised eyebrows as he gathered his laptop, leaving the coffee mug on the table. Trowa and Duo didn't say anything, but he imagined them settling in to discuss his behavior in his absence. There was no help for it. He would just have to let them speculate.

As he ran up the stairs, his thought whirled faster. Relena was pregnant. Certainly it was nothing he had looked for, something he should reject with horror, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. A baby. What would it look like? When would it be born? The more he paced in his room, the more agitated his thoughts became. She was _his_, had become irrevocably his as soon as he admitted to himself that he wanted her. It would be imprudent to possess her, but that didn't alter his claim. He could allow this Calhoun to borrow her, to watch over her, indefinitely perhaps, even marry her, but she was still his.

But was the baby?

He couldn't relax. Every muscle in his body seemed tightened to the point of strain. Maybe…with a little careful planning… it might be possible to see her without exposing either of them to danger. Of course, he would have to break out of the bunker without the other pilots or the Preventors knowing, and be back before they knew he had left. He couldn't go right away, of course. If something went wrong it would be too obvious, but perhaps after the baby was born it would be possible. How many weeks did that leave him? If he timed it right…

A few weeks after Relena returned from the hospital, she stood in the doorway to the nursery clothed in a long silk nightgown and a robe with wide sleeves fashioned in the style of a kimono. Clouds obscured the night sky seen through the windows and only a silver of silver moonlight penetrated the gloom. She didn't turn on the light.

She wanted to watch the baby sleep, to make sure he was resting comfortably. It was impossible to believe that something so tiny and vulnerable could make so much fuss. He never slept more than a couple of hours. Tonight, though, he was resting more soundly than usual.

When she was fully satisfied that he would not wake, she slipped silently from the nursery and made her way downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice.

Relena's pregnancy had gone smoothly. She had been forced to cut back at work, of course, largely due to fatigue, and had grudgingly agreed to work from home for a few months after the baby was born, but even Candace Mae seemed surprised by the lack of complications. Of course she had the best doctors and a full staff to support her.

And then there was Alexander Calhoun, her baby's supposed father.

Relena still could not understand why he was still with her. She did not believe it was out of obligation to the child. She didn't need him with all the rest of her support. It didn't make sense. It had to be for her.

In the beginning, she had bent all her political whiles to convincing the man that her interest in him was exclusive and passionately engaged, and suffered pangs of guilt that kept her awake and weeping late into the night. She didn't tell Alexander that she was pregnant until almost a month into their relationship. When she revealed her condition, pretending shock and surprise and apology, she had expected at most a lump sum of money and a quick retreat. She had been surprised when he stayed, even a little perturbed.

She had not expected to hear from Heero. She knew he could not contact her even if he knew of her condition. For the first couple of months she dreamed about him while wrapped in Alexander's arms. For the first couple of months, she awoke slightly sweaty and dazed. Alexander thought she was having nightmares. He expressed only concern, touching her face softly, kissing her lips, telling her that all was well.

Relena had never been good at lying, so she was surprised how easily deceit came to her.

Somehow she managed to lean against his shoulder, to return his smiles, and to continue to take him to her bed. Nine months they had been together now. As her pregnancy grew more ponderous he moved into her mansion to be closer to her. They ate meals together, slept together, made love, and discussed a more permanent arrangement if all should work out satisfactorily.

Although outwardly things did seem to be running smoothly, her mental state worsened. In private moments she experienced uncharacteristic moments of temper and tears, episodes she did not think resulted from the physical changes in her body. It was the guilt, she was sure, and the pangs of missing Heero, of betraying him to save herself and their child.

Candace Mae was unsympathetic.

"You need Alexander," the old woman said simply. "The longer he stays the better. Is it so bad? He treats you well enough. Aren't you happy?"

It took her months to admit that—apart from her deceit—she rather _was_ happy.

It occurred to her that it was possible to like two people at once. She liked Alexander. She felt a certain amount of affection for him, even tenderness, and though it was not the same as what she felt for Heero, it was pleasant, even comfortable, and it made her happy. She still loved Heero, but he was absent, away from her, and she realized it was act of _liking_ someone else in his absence that was causing her so much mental anguish.

Alex more than liked her. It couldn't be anything less than the deepest infatuation, if not love, that would keep him by her side this long.

She lived in perpetual fear of the time Alexander would propose to her.

She knew that would eventually. They had talked about it frankly before, and she could sense an air about him as her delivery time drew near. She also detected that the reason he had not proposed was that he suspected that she feared it.

Some days she hated herself for being afraid. A married life with Alexander would fulfill her domestic ambition. She had Heero's baby, after all, and may never see Heero himself again. She counseled herself to contemplate the positives. Alexander was a kind man, a quiet, supportive man. He was like Heero in some respects—deliberative, contemplative, always thinking carefully before speaking, and somewhat reserved. There were parts of her life she could not share with him, of course—anything that touched upon Heero in point of fact—but they connected well. She could see herself married to him, and although the thought didn't fill her with wild happiness the way thoughts of Heero did, it did not upset her.

And yet she was afraid.

Now that the baby was born, she knew he would ask soon. It could be as near as this weekend, or a few months, or tomorrow. When he did, she didn't know what she would say.

A sound from the nursery—heard through the monitors that decorated the house—startled her out of contemplation. She put the orange juice away and closed the refrigerator door. Turning on bare feet, she padded across the kitchen tiles and made her way silently up the stairs.

"Candace Mae?" she whispered. Her manager was the only other person currently in the house that she trusted in the baby's room. "Don't wake him. I just put him down."

No one answered.

Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she approached the nursery and pushed softly on the swinging door. She expected to see Candace Mae leaning over the crib, but the room was empty. What she noticed first was the open window, the white silk curtains billowing into the room. It had been closed when she left.

Her eyes darted to the crib. Little Alex Darilan slept soundly, wrapped in swaddling with his tiny face scrunched in contemplation of an infant's dreams.

She turned slowly, her eyes combing the shadows of the room.

"Heero?" she whispered. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. It had to be Heero.

A figure moved. A man emerged from the corner Relena's eyes had just swept. She started back in alarm, her heart pounding before she made out the familiar features of Heero's face and startling blue eyes. He had somehow hidden himself behind a half open closet door, swathed head to foot in black military gear, outfitted with a holster containing a gun and a variety of devices she could not name.

"Are you alone?" Heero asked her in a quiet voice.

She nodded, shutting the door behind her. "Candace Mae is asleep. Alexander isn't home yet. How did you get here?"

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of him. He turned to the crib, looking down at the infant's face and wisps of dark hair, seeming to study his eyelids and tiny lashes, his little nose and soft upper lip. His eyes darted over every feature, and Relena knew instantly what he was doing. She had done it herself many times, trying to understand what she was seeing, to leap over the incredulous notion that this tiny bundle was hers.

"It's yours," Relena told him immediately, not wanting to draw it out and not daring to approach. "Everyone says he looks like me, but he's got your coloring. If you saw him with his eyes open, you'd see it, especially when he watches me. I didn't mean for it, but…" She bit her lip. "I'm not unhappy."

Heero asked the obvious question. "You told him that it was his?" He meant Alexander Calhoun. His tone was curiously flat.

"Yes," Relena confirmed. "He looks enough like Alexander thankfully. You have similar coloring. And I named him Alex. Alex Darilan. I thought it would be best that way."

"It's a good name," Heero told her.

There was silence for a moment as Relena watched Heero watch the baby. There was a look on Heero's face that she had never seen before, a kind of mystified wonder. He stared down at the child with a soft expression. His gaze was so gentle, as if he thought his stare might damage the baby.

Relena approached the father of her child slowly. She stood next to him, scarcely allowing herself the comfort to breathe for fear of breaking the spell.

"Does he dream?" Heero asked.

"I don't know."

As they watched, the baby stirred, chewing on air, his head twisting slightly under the wrappings. Heero's mouth parted slightly, but he did not speak. Relena could tell he had stopped breathing, as if the baby's movement had just confirmed to him that it really lived.

"Do you want to hold him?" Relena asked.

"I'll wake him up," Heero replied.

"It's okay," she said. "I think he'll want to see you. Do you want to hold him?"

Heero's jaw looked tight, but he didn't say no. Relena reached into the crib to pick up her baby. He made a fussy sound as she lifted him, struggling in the bonds of his wrappings, red in the face as he fought against opening his eyes. She knew he would cry if he woke, but she rocked him, easing him back into slumber, and then turned to look at his father.

Heero had removed his vest and holster. The shirt he wore beneath it was made of soft cotton dyed black. Relena passed their baby to him gently, telling him how to hold his arms and where to support the head. Heero listened obediently, copying her without comment. When she finally let go of the child and took a step back from the pair of them, Heero had mastered the technique. The baby's head lay snuggly against his upper arm, still asleep, and for a wonder, Heero rocked it instinctively, turning his back on Relena to pace across the room. She could tell he was nervous, and fascinated, and managing to dampen it beneath a layer of control and utter calm.

"He's looking at me," Heero said.

Relena walked the other way around the crib to see. Indeed, Alex Darilan had opened his eyes. For a wonder, he was not crying. He was staring at Heero, his baby blue eyes even darker than his father's, watching him without fear or fuss.

Heero stood in the darkness, staring into his son's eyes for several minutes. "Take him back," he said. "Please."

Relena took her baby from Heero's arms and laid him back in the crib. He still didn't cry. His eyes followed his father, watching him pull on his vest and strap the gun holster back around his waist.

"Heero," Relena said. "How is everything?"

"There's no need to worry. What about you?" He looked at her when he said it, and in his eyes she saw his concern.

"I'm all right," she told him.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be here," he said.

"It's okay," she told him. "I'm well cared for. I have everything I need." She wanted to reassure him that she had not suffered materially in his absence. Emotionally, it had been hard, but her money would have seen her safely through any obstacles that might have burdened a woman in her situation of less means. She was sure that was what he meant. "I do miss you," she added, and didn't realize how true it was until the words left her lips.

Heero's eyes seemed to drink in the light seeping into the room. "Calhoun treats you well?"

"Yes," she said, sensing that there was something else he wanted to say. "Heero…?" She touched his arm, pleasantly attracted to the bulge of muscle beneath her hand as he bent his elbow and pulled her close to him. She could smell cologne on his skin, and the heady scents of leather and oil.

"I love you," he said.

She almost sagged against him, her knees giving out slightly from under her. He removed her arm from his and touched her chin, lifting her face to his and looking directly into her eyes. He put his free hand around her waist, fingering the silk of her robe beneath his fingers at the small of her back. There was something tragic in his expression, something cautionary and apologetic. She wanted to hit him for it.

"I have to go," he said before she could speak. His grip on her tightened, his head lowering closer to hers. "He'll be back soon."

He said it, but his lips touched hers first, kissing her gently, pulling her up on her toes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, reaching around the back of his neck to hold him close. Their bodies suffocated the space between them, Heero's arms wrapped around her so tightly she could scarcely draw breath. He kissed her soundly, his eyelashes tickling her cheeks.

She knew when he was going to pull away and clung to him before he could, digging her nails into his shoulders and protesting with a murmur. They separated, Relena's heels settling back on the floor, and held on to each other's arms.

Heero turned to look down into the crib. Alex was looking up at them, his eyes wide and awake, watching them with polite curiosity. Relena bit her lip.

"Calhoun might ask me to marry him," she said. Her fingers trembled on Heero's arms. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"Marry him if you want," Heero said.

Relena looked up, stunned and almost hurt. Heero's face was hard and impassive, his jaw tight. He looked down at Alex Darilan. "He'll take care of you and the baby."

"I don't need anyone to take care of me," Relena said. "I've been trying to make that clear to you for years. What I want is someone to love me."

"Does he?" Heero asked, turning now to look at her. She could not read his emotions. It was hard to tell if he had any, he was so good at hiding them. But she knew Heero. He felt more than most people. Felt it, controlled it, and buried it deep where no one could use it against him.

"I think he cares for me," she said honestly. "He's told me he loves me."

"If you marry him," Heero said. "I'll stay away."

"What if I don't care to?" she asked. "What about your son? I don't want you to stay away."

"It would be better for both of you. Relena, this thing I'm involved in is not the operation of a few months. It could be years. For all I know it could be decades. And even if I survive, I'm not a family man. I wouldn't know how to be husband to you or a father to Alex. It's not fair to you. "

"No, it isn't," she said. "But if you honestly love me, you would want…"

A sound came from downstairs and startled both of them. The front door had open and shut. Relena turned to Heero, signaling to him with her eyes. Alexander Calhoun was home. Heero cupped her face and caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed her again, a soft goodbye kiss that seemed to linger even after he pulled away.

Baby Alex was still watching them. His face turned red as Heero moved with sudden swiftness toward the window. The tension in the room was palpable. The baby struggled and fussed and then started to cry.

Relena didn't dare say anything to Heero as he climbed onto her window sill. He looked back at her once from the ledge and then suddenly dropped out of sight. It took Relena a moment to realize that he must have swung down.

She hurried to the window, but when she looked down, she couldn't see him. Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Hurriedly, she shut the panes and pulled the curtains closed. Turning to the crib, she picked up Alex, his small form shaking with tears, red faced and wailing. She held him and rocked him, cooing comforts in his ear as the door to the nursery opened.

Alexander Calhoun entered, still wearing his coat and tie, looking tired, but concerned. "He's still awake?"

"He just woke up," Relena said.

"I entered as quietly as I could."

"I don't think it was you. He's been fussy all afternoon."

He was a moody baby. He slept in fits, cried a lot, and rarely seemed satisfied. When he was content, he was the sweetest angel, but if Relena had been alone in caring for him she would have found him trying. With Candace Mae assisting her and Alex staying in when he could, she managed to rest enough that her baby's moods did not affect her; still, he was sensitive, something she had not expected from Heero's baby.

"Relena," Calhoun said as soon as Alex calmed down enough to be swaddled and laid once more in the crib to rest. He was still sleepy and seemed content to fall back into whatever dream Heero's arrival had interrupted.

Calhoun waited until the baby was asleep before continuing. "I have something to ask you." He took her gently by the elbow and led her out of the nursery. They walked together down the hallway and stopped a few paces from the window. The clouds had moved and moonlight illuminated the sharp angles of Alexander's face. Relena shivered in her robe, waiting for his words.

"This was not the place or time I intended to ask this," he said, "but I've been thinking about it all afternoon, and I can't hold it in any longer."

Relena's heart almost stopped.

"Relena, you must be wondering where I see this going—us, I mean. We've been together less than a year, I know, and it's been good, at least for me, and I think for you as well. You are an amazing person, and…" He stammered, looking flustered. "I know you expected me to leave you when you told me you were pregnant, and it's more than a personal sense of honor and affection for you that I didn't."

Relena's heart beat even louder in her chest.

"I think we should get married. I think it would be the best thing for both of us. You work very hard and so do I. I'm fond of you—immensely fond—and I'm fond of the baby as well."

Fond?

For a second, Relena's world tilted. This was not the proposal she had expected.

"He's my namesake after all, but…"

Relena experienced an alarming precognition.

"…I know he's not mine," Calhoun finished.

Her heart may have stopped.

"Alexander," Relena began, breathless and confused. She felt faint. She started to sway and Calhoun caught her, holding her steady by the shoulders.

"I've always known," he said. "I don't think you've cheated on me. You must have been pregnant already."

Relena didn't know what to say. She didn't want to confirm it, but she wanted to know how he knew. She stared at Calhoun, feeling light-headed and wondering if she looked as pale and wraithlike as she felt.

"I know it's not mine because I can't have kids," Calhoun told her. "I'm sterile. It's not important. It's just…You're a remarkable woman and I couldn't understand why you would lie to me about something so important. For awhile I thought maybe you were after legitimacy, hoping to secure a well-connected husband to secure your reputation, but you seemed so hesitant about marriage every time we've talked about it that I had to conclude that that was is not your aim. You even went ahead and had the baby without being married first. If you intended to be my wife, I can't see how that would benefit either you or the child. I also know that though you like me a lot, you don't love me. I couldn't understand what you meant by lying. My only other thought is that being with me must afford you some other protection. I thought maybe you had a bad experience, that the real father of your children left you, or was inferior to you, or something that hasn't occurred to me yet. If so, I thought…."

"Yes!" Relena interrupted. She had been feeling fainter as Calhoun continued, and seized upon these speculations as a life raft. "A bad experience. I don't…I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to public to know. But he—the father—He's gone for good."

She realized in saying it that she would have to mean it. Her throat constricted. She couldn't speak.

Calhoun seemed to relax. "If that's the case, let me take care of you. I can't have children, but I do like children. I do love you. You are a remarkable woman: strong, poised, and resilient. Let's marry, for better or for worse."

"Why?" she gasped out. "I mean, what's in it for you?"

He shrugged. "I can take my career farther if I'm married, especially to someone like you. Being a family man is even better. I don't say this to sound callous. I couldn't marry just _anyone_, but a sterile man isn't attractive to the kind of women I'm interested in, not for the long term anyway. I never thought I had a chance with you or I would have courted you sooner. Everyone knows you want a family, after all. I thought maybe a few dates would be nice, but then it all just came together, as if fate had arranged it. I've enjoyed every moment of our time together. We are both relatively young, so I can afford to wait if you want to think about it, but I thought I might as well be honest in my intentions. I will take wonderful care of you. What do you think?"

Relena's mind swam. The taste of Heero's lips on hers had not yet faded. She could still feel his grip on her arms. And yet… To not be alone. To have a responsible male figure to help raise her child. To protect her child against gossip that his father had abandoned him. And perhaps greater harm.

She could only think of one logical answer. Tears gathered in her eyes as she formed her response. Let him think they were happy tears.

To Be Continued


	10. Redirection

It's been a long time. A really long time. I have gotten many requests since the last chapter of this story to update it. It is thanks to those reviews that this story never left my heart. Every time I got a review (and some were well thought out and a joy to read) I would experience this jolt and think how I wanted to finish it, but just couldn't. There are many reasons why. Business. Too many stories. Not liking some of the things I wrote, etc. I would write this story very differently if I were to start over now. As it is, I hope simply to finish it.

Because it has been so long, and doubtless many will have forgotten the plotline completely, I have written this chapter in such a way that you will get the gist of the entire story from starting here. I may contradict myself in places, but I hope not.

Amour

Chapter 10

By Zapenstap

Heero crossed his arms and glanced expeditiously around the room.

Beside him on the couch, Duo was chewing on a toothpick. On Duo's other side, Wufei leaned back in his Preventor jacket with his feet propped on the coffee table. From the other side of the coffee table, Trowa was flipping through a magazine. Quatre was seated beside Trowa—in a suit—with a glass of water at his elbow.

For the first time in quite some time, all five of the former Gundam Pilots had been corralled into one room.

Heero hadn't seen the others all together since… well, since Relena's birthday party.

He had never firmly come down on how he felt about them. They were comrades. That was a given, without question. They had faced death together. They had achieved victories. They had suffered defeats. He had come to trust each of them, which was something; it had been difficult to learn. But were they friends? Friendship was one of the things he struggled to put into practice.

Duo was the first to speak. "Why are Wufei and Quatre here? I thought they weren't at risk."

He wasn't addressing the pilots. They were not the only people in the room.

"This is a critical time," Une told them. "Things have changed."

"And given that, we felt it was a worthwhile precaution," Noin added.

Une and Noin stood side by side in Preventor uniforms, facing the pilots as a commanding team.

Heero waited, knowing more was coming.

The arrival of Commander Une and Lucrezia Noin had been unexpected. Heero, Duo, and Trowa had been awake when the pair arrived on their doorstep with Wufei and Quatre in tow. It was pouring down rain, but Heero surmised that wasn't why they wore cloaks that obscured everything but their eyes.

Une gave them all a level gaze. "We have intelligence that the prototype being developed by the enemy is nearing the final stages. Furthermore, we have learned it is equipped with a functioning Zero System. They wanted Gundam Pilots before. Now that their system works, they really need them. You know how dangerous that system is."

Heero leaned back against the couch and crossed his arms. The Zero System. That explained Quatre's presence for certain. The Winner heir was more at risk now, along with himself, if this terrorist group was really serious about capturing a pilot familiar with the Zero System to run tests on the weapon they were building.

"Why Wufei?" Duo asked. "Shouldn't he be with the Preventors? That should be safe enough."

"It's unclear how much they know about you individually," Noin said. "There are records on your activities during the war, but there are gaps. They know some of you operated the Zero System. It's possible they assume you were all experts."

"I never mastered it," Wufei said, "but I can handle it better than someone who has never experienced it. Even so, it annoys me that I have sit out for a reason like that."

"We thank you for your patience," Noin told him. "We know that all of you would rather be directly involved. We appreciate your understanding as to why it is essential you lay low, given that the five of you are targets. Allowing you to be operatives puts everyone at risk."

Une nodded. "Descriptions of each of you are in circulation and are extremely detailed, down to your behaviors and facial expressions, as well as the people you know and all the places you have worked or lived. The bounty to be paid to anyone who can bring information about your whereabouts is substantial. The price has doubled recently. For this reason, we thought it necessary that all of you be brought together and kept out of the fighting toward the end of things. We have also stationed a watch on the people close to you."

The people closest to them. Did that include Relena?

Heero spared a moment of concern, concern that he hadn't been careful enough, that despite all odds, the depth of his involvement with Relena would be discovered. As far as most people knew—as far as Noin or Une knew—her connection with him was tentative these days, a relic of a former era when things were less safe. Of course, it wasn't a secret that she was important to him, or that she had feelings for him, or even that they had...dated… briefly—years ago—but it was unlikely she would be targeted over such a tremulous connection.

He focused on that point. She would not be an easy target in any case, given her celebrity and political significance. Targeting her would be dangerous, risky, and expensive. If it couldn't be confirmed that she was personally important to him, as well as politically, she wouldn't be worth it. It wasn't her feelings for him that mattered, but his feelings for her. A few years ago he would not have worried, but now...

He closed his eyes. No one no could know. He was pretty sure no one knew.

"Therefore, Quatre and Wufei will have to remain here until we have the prototype in custody," Une finished.

"Like old times," Duo grinned.

Quatre smiled at Duo, but when he looked around the bunker where three of the world's heroes had been lying low for the better part of a year, he sighed. Wufei scowled, muttering something about the Preventor's piss poor budget.

Heero couldn't disagree. Their hideout was a sad excuse for a living establishment, made all the worse that their freedom to leave was limited.

The bunker was small. When they first started living here, it had the look of a college dorm room, complete with mismatched furniture, creaky floor boards, plumbing that rattled, and mysterious stains. Duo, Trowa and Heero had all done more than a bit to fix the place up, partly out of boredom, but even though they had torn out the walls, reupholstered the furniture, painted the walls, and wired new light fixtures among other projects, the place left a lot to be desired.

"How long do you think we'll have to be in hiding?" Quatre asked.

Heero crossed his arms. He had calculated it out many times: the time it would take to carefully investigate the terrorist operations, uncover all the agents, especially the remote cells, locate the prototype, obtain blueprints of the security… And that was just the preliminary measures. All in all, it could take years. That's why he had told Relena not to wait for him. It wasn't fair to her. If the operation was discovered and the outfit scattered, or went underground.... If even one splinter cell…

"Not long," Wufei said. "A couple of weeks if we are lucky."

Heero froze.

Across from him, Trowa turned a page of the magazine he was reading. He didn't look up. He didn't even appear to be listening. Beside Trowa, Quatre nodded thoughtfully. Heero stared vacantly at the cover as Trowa shifted it on his knee, abstractedly reading the title. People Magazine?

Duo was the only one to express outward surprise at Wufei's assessment. He whistled appreciatively. "Mission must already be underway then. Man, I really wanted to be part of the take down!"

"Recovery," Noin corrected.

"What?"

"We call it a 'recovery' mission when illegal military weapons are seized, not a 'take down.' "

Wufei snorted.

Heero's mind seemed to be turning slowly. It was almost as if he was hearing the conversation from several rooms away. In actuality, he was thinking very fast. He was thinking of several things at once.

Weeks. Not years. Not decades.

If what they were saying was true… Well, there was always the possibility of incompetence on their part. But… He looked at Noin's face. He didn't detect concern, and Noin always worried openly, especially in dangerous situations, and she was very thorough. She was the one primarily responsible for training Preventors these days. If she was sure of the operation, it must mean that she felt the people involved were capable. Beside her, Une looked almost smug. Even Wufei seemed confident, though that wasn't as much of a surprise, unless Heero took into consideration that Wufei wasn't leading the mission himself. In fact, Wufei wasn't a part of it at all, which meant he trusted others to do it. That made Wufei's confidence extraordinary.

While Heero's mind buzzed, the others talked over the mission in detail. Heero listened without really listening, understanding without thinking. He was so absorbed, he almost didn't react appropriately when Une and Noin announced that they had to leave. He tuned in as Une explained that they would be back to check on them in a few days, but that the mission was at a critical stage and they couldn't afford to be away for long.

"Don't do anything crazy," Une told them sternly. She had her hand on the door, addressing them over her shoulder. "I want to be clear. You five are not to be part of this mission. Promise me you won't interfere."

They all promised.

After Noin and Une left, the others continued to talk amongst each other. Using the surface of the coffee table as a battlefield, they mapped out how tactical might go by using coasters as places and torn pieces of paper as units.

"Oh well," Duo said with a loud, long sigh when they all seemed reasonably satisfied by their guesses. "They don't need us, so I guess we'll just kick back. Feels kinda weird, though, doesn't it?"

Heero stared at the coffee table.

Was it really that simple?

Things took longer when you did everything by yourself, and he always worked alone, always assumed other people were incapable of doing what he could do.

But that was changing. Training had been evolving in the Preventors outfit. Wufei and Sally Po handled recruitment, Noin managed training, and Une managed overhead operations and interfaced with the public. Even Dorothy Catalonia was involved, mostly with funding. And Zechs too, before his mission to Mars.

The Preventors had been growing exponentially. Une was almost as popular these days as Treize had been. They had been creating an independent, no-borders, no alliance-bound force for universal peace that had no equal in the history of the world.

Heero knew all of this. Sometimes he was asked to help in specialized efforts. But part of him hadn't considered the effect it would have on his own life.

_They don't need us._

It didn't mean they weren't useful. What it meant was that they weren't alone. There were others now, other soldiers who could be depended on to protect the delicate, unified peace effort their generation had birthed from war. It was everyone, not just those tainted by the past, who would build out a future of peace keeping that would continue past their generation. It meant that he, Heero, didn't have to sacrifice his life... It meant he could HAVE a life… if he could figure out what to do with it.

Trowa, who hadn't spoken a word since Noin arrived, turned another page. Whatever he was reading must have caught Quatre's eye because he blinked and glanced down at the article.

"Oh! What a shame. We won't be able to attend."

"What?" Duo asked, leaning forward curiously.

"Miss Relena's wedding," Quatre sighed. "She sent me an invitation and everything."

Heero's mouth felt dry. It wasn't a surprise. The press had reported on it ages ago. Then he had felt nothing. He had told her not to wait. He had felt it would be unfair to her, because he might be years in the field, because mentally he would be there forever. At the time he had believed it…hadn't he?

Duo leaned back again, lacing his fingers behind his neck. "Oh yeah. Me too. I still can't believe she's _getting_ married. I thought for sure she would one day muster the pluck to ask Heero to marry her." He chuckled at some memory, half turned his head toward Heero, and looked swiftly away when confronted by a glare. "Zechs will be pissed. Who's the lucky guy?"

"Alexander Calhoun. He's a politician," Quatra answered. "Nice guy. I've met him a few times. Their baby must be crawling by now."

Heero tried not to react. He had told himself that he was never going back. Maybe he had needed that excuse. In his mind, war went on forever. He closed his eyes.

_They don't need you._

"Heero?" Duo muttered. "You okay?"

He slowly looked up.

Duo, Quatre, and Wufei were staring at him.

"I'm fine."

"You look odd," Duo said, and waved a hand in front of his own face. "Something about the eyes."

"He looks unfocused," Trowa supplied, still not looking up from the pages of the magazine. "He's looked like that on and off a lot lately. Have you just noticed?"

Heero sat in one place, feeling strangely cold. All it once, it just came out of his mouth.

"Relena's baby is mine."

There was dead silence for several long seconds.

Trowa lowered the magazine.

Immediately, Heero wished he could recall the words. He had no idea why he had uttered them. Now four sets of eyes were drilling into him with varying degrees of shock.

"Come again?" Duo muttered.

Heat replaced chill.

"Are you… blushing?" Quatre asked, astonished.

Heero wanted to get up and walk out, but he couldn't move. His legs felt like rubber pieces somehow disconnected from the rest from his body.

"I think I might understand," Trowa said. All eyes turned to him. Trowa calmly settled the magazine on his knee. "I've noticed that, for awhile now, you've been acting a little oddly, Heero."

"I have?" he asked. The words were like bits of cotton in his mouth. "In what way?"

"Nothing extraordinary. You've just been more unfocused than usual. And I've noted that you've been giving a lot of attention to the news. I thought maybe it was her. Normally, you wouldn't care for such things, but Relena has been the subject of celebrity gossip. We know you consider it your duty to protect her, and we all heard that you were together once… briefly. And, of course, we all know how she feels about you."

Heero didn't say anything. He couldn't very well deny it.

"We also know it didn't work out."

No, it hadn't.

The official reason was that Relena back then had been too busy and he had been gone too often on missions, which so strained their capability to even see each other that it had fallen apart. But that wasn't really the reason. The real reason was that he was incompetent at such things.

"I'm assuming you had a physical relationship?" Trowa asked.

Heero was unsure where this was going. Yes, they had. It had taken some adjustment before he and Relena had touched at all, but after he finally kissed her for the first time, things progressed rapidly…perhaps too rapidly.

She had been on tour in the Colonies for a series of summits. He had accompanied her as a bodyguard in one area where there were protests. They had adjoining hotel rooms, in fact, which he had arranged, but not for the intent it ended up serving. He had meant to kiss her goodnight, but she had grabbed his wrist and asked him to wait. Her nervousness was palpable. They sat on the bed together. He kissed her again. She relaxed. He meant to go, but somehow, things became heated. She removed his jacket. He unbuttoned her blouse. That's how it started. It moved too fast from there.

Beneath her clothes he found her skin to be like silk, and the more of it he exposed, the more he wanted to touch. They had ended up naked in a dusky, moonlit darkness, kissing and touching until they couldn't think. He had never experienced anything quite like it. His head had been fuzzy, swelled to bursting with fever that wasn't sickness.

He remembered asking 'are you sure you--?" and being interrupted when her mouth swallowed his words and her hips shifted under him. He couldn't have imagined the sweetness of that night. It overwhelmed all objections, not just the sensation, but the swift beating of his heart, the tenderness in her eyes, the softness of her breath, and the ache that seemed to pulsate between them. All of it together overthrew him. The culmination came much too quickly, but despite its commonality seemed nevertheless both perfect and miraculous. Afterward, as she clung to his arms, shaking, and he had thought of nothing but staying with her, but…

"You cared for her, but you didn't love her."

Heero drifted back to the present. The room was silent. The others were all staring at him. He didn't know if his emotions were showing. He was told they rarely did. Even so, there was concern in their eyes, real interest in his feelings on their faces, understanding in their expressions, but he didn't know how to feel or react.

"And after, she told you she was in love with you."

Not quite. Not right away. But it hadn't been long after. Maybe she had even tried to hold it back, but something shifted. The way she smiled at him. The look in her eye. The way she touched him. It was like she was melting into him, becoming a part of him, claiming him, needing him to claim her, and he felt…panic. And then one night she said it.

_I love you._

"So you broke it off."

Heero wasn't surprised at this sequential type of deduction. Trowa was adept at reading situations, even deeply psychological situations, though he typically dissected them logically. All the pieces were there.

"You must have broken her heart," Quatre said.

Nothing less expected from Quatre, Heero told himself, trying to remain distant. Even so, the thought brought some pain. He hadn't meant to hurt her. It had taken years for her to forgive him, during which time he had kept his distance, though not without friendliness, and continuing to protect her and all she stood for, though it made things awkward. The sadness in Quatre's voice was sympathetic and understanding, not judgmental.

"So?" Duo demanded. "When did you start seeing her again?"

"It was probably at Relena's birthday party," Trowa guessed. "Last year. That's my guess."

Three sets of eyes—brown, blue, and black—flickered from Heero to Trowa and back again. Something must have showed on Heero's face that confirmed it.

"You've been seeing her for over a _year_?" Duo exclaimed. "And you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't tell anyone," Heero said. He looked back at Trowa. "How did you know?"

"I was there," Trowa said, folding the magazine and setting it aside. "At Relena's party, I mean. We all were. And we all went home, some of us a little drunker on champagne than others." His eyes wandered to Duo, then back to Heero. "But you never left her house."

Quatre's mouth dropped open a little.

"It wasn't planned," Heero informed them. "It just happened. " They were drinking too. Everyone was.

"Happy birthday?" Duo muttered.

"And one night turned into two and then three and so on," Trowa finished.

Heero nodded. Trowa hadn't been spying on him. When the pieces were added together, it wasn't difficult to figure out. He didn't feel as annoyed as he expected. It was almost a relief that someone knew.

Quatre shook his head. "Heero, I know Miss Relena is a bit tougher these days, but I have a hard time believing that she doesn't have feelings for you still. She is either lying to herself about the way she feels about you, or…" He trailed off.

"Or you've fallen for her this time," Trowa concluded.

Duo's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head.

"He's fallen for her." This from Wufei, speaking for the first time since Heero let slip his confession. He sounded surprised, and a touch amused.

"So the baby?" Quatre asked.

"Yeah," Heero said. "It wasn't planned, but…" He tried to work more moisture into his mouth.

"You love her," Quatre smiled.

Duo looked at Quatre, then at Heero, then at Trowa as if for a second opinion, and back at Heero. His large blue eyes drifted to the magazine lying beside Trowa on the couch.

"So. She loves you. You love her. Somebody please explain to me why she is marrying someone else?"

"That," Trowa said, "I haven't been able to figure out."

"You must have done or said something to make her think you were a lost cause," Wufei said.

Heero glared at him. "I wanted what was best for her."

Wufei scowled. "Was it after you got shot out of the sky? Did you tell her to forget you? Did you think she was better off away from you or something?"

Duo looked thoughtful. "I can understand if you felt that it would be safer not to be associated. That's why I brought Hilde into hiding with me after all. But—" He frowned. "Just for awhile. I mean, heck, Relena would wait for you, and it's not like you're ever going to totally leave her alone. You never do."

Duo was referring, of course, to Heero's habit of assigning himself as Relena's bodyguard when she made trips, especially to space, or anywhere unwelcoming.

"That's not the same thing," he objected. "Besides, I didn't think this mission would be this quick. I underestimated the ability of the Preventors. I thought it would take years—"

"But she'd wait years," Duo interrupted. He sounded puzzled. "She's waited ten already. Why marry someone else?"

"Perhaps he was concerned for the safety of the child?" Trowa guessed. "Relena started showing not long after we went into hiding. People would ask questions. If the child was guessed to be Heero's, which isn't unreasonable, it could be targeted to get to us."

"Yeah, okay," Duo said. "So maybe she gets herself a boyfriend. But why marry him? She's a rich lady. It's not like she needs the assistance."

Heero crossed his arms. "I told her she should."

He wasn't expecting the reaction he got. Quatre's chin practically dropped to his chest. Even Trowa

seemed startled. Wufei eyed him contemptuously. Duo leapt to his feet, making a strangled sound like a cat.

Heero remained unmoved. "In the long run, I wouldn't make a good match for her," he explained. "She wants a family. I can't commit to that. Calhoun's done a lot better for her."

"Heero!" Quatre gasped.

"ARE YOU NUTS?" Duo shouted. "MY _GOD_!" He stood up, grimaced, and pulled at his hair. "Heero, what the hell? She is in love with you!"

"I don't know how to raise a child," he said as calmly as he could manage.

Duo made noises in the back of his throat that didn't quite approach words.

"But, Heero," Quatre gasped. "Nobody does. Parenting is something everybody has to learn."

"Maybe some people," Heero said. "I really only know how to fight. In a—"

Duo waved his arms in the air, cutting him off. "Stop right there! You are incredible. I mean seriously? When I think of all the things you can do—things other people would find impossible—man, I get jealous just thinking about it. _Everybody_ has babies, Heero. Idiots raise children."

Heero didn't answer. He couldn't have anyway. Duo was determined to roll right over him.

"Did you put that weirdly wired brain of yours to _any_ use? Not saying it would make you an expert, but I could see you reading a library worth of books on parenting in a weekend, or taking classes, or babysitting, or whatever the hell men do to learn about children. What I can't see is you--of all people, you--just… giving up!"

Heero hesitated. He hadn't thought about it…quite like that.

"I have to agree with Duo," Trowa said. "Of all the people I know, you are the last person of whom I would say commitment is a problem. You are already committed to Relena, and have been for years. It's just a different thing from what you're used to. You could learn to parent as well as anyone, probably better than most."

"I have to agree also," Wufei said. "This was a coward's response. You're afraid."

Heero started at that.

"It's not cowardly," Quatre disagreed. "Heero might be intimidated by the future—we all are—but I don't think he's running. He tried to make the best decision, I think. It's just… Well, sometimes even well-intentioned decisions are mistaken."

Heero tried to blot out their voices so he could think.

It was true that he didn't always trust his own decision-making. And sometimes he made mistakes.

So Quatre's point was valid. The future was intimidating. All his young life he had expected to fight and die doing it. Later, in no small part because of Relena, he had wanted to live, because he found something worth protecting, but his mind still saw life as a battle. Fighting was what he had been trained for. He wanted a peaceful world, but hadn't quite adjusted to living in it.

Duo also made some sense. There was no reason he couldn't approach parenting the way he had approached anything: fighting, fencing, flying… He had done it all by studying, experimenting, applying, correcting, trying again. Was caring for a baby so different from that? It certainly wasn't less important.

As for Relena…

Duo pointed an accusatory finger at Heero's chest. "Do you know what your real problem is? You don't want to be happy."

Heero didn't answer. He wasn't sure he knew the answer.

The magazine Trowa had been reading was lying open on the couch. Across the centerfold there was a picture of Relena, dressed in a creamy white dress, honey-blonde hair caught up behind her head. Behind her, Alexander Calhoun had a hand on her shoulder. The caption read: _The Wedding Is On! Relena Dorilan To Be Married Tomorrow!_

His muscles felt tense.

She was smiling in the picture.

"What do I do?" he asked, mostly to himself, but also soliciting their input.

"Hell," Duo muttered. "Go get her."

Heero didn't answer. It wasn't that simple.

"It's not quite fair, is it?" Quatre murmured, following Heero's gaze to the picture. "Even if she loves you, she's set to marry him."

Duo put his hands behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. "She's not married yet."

"Does _he_ know the baby isn't his?" Wufei demanded.

"I don't know," Heero answered. "Relena started seeing him to protect me and the child, but she's not a great liar, and there's no need to marry anyone for the child's sake. He may know."

"Who is he?" Trowa asked. "Anyone we should be concerned about?"

"He was a civilian during the war," Heero said. "He went to law school before beginning his political career. I checked him out early. There's nothing suspicious in his history."

"He's working for the same goals as Miss Relena," Quatre added. "He's not as well known, and he sticks mostly to the Earth, but he has a strong record for his years, which are fewer than Miss Relena's considering how young she was when she started. He advocates communication between parties still hostile to each other after the war, especially groups opposed to the World Nation who want to reestablish borders in order to retain cultural distinction. He's a charismatic guy, very open, very different from Heero."

"Does he love Relena?" Trowa asked. "Does she love him?"

"I don't know," Heero replied.

"Why else would she marry him?" Duo muttered.

"There are other reasons people get married," Wufei noted.

There was a moment silence. Heero couldn't stop staring at the picture. He couldn't decide if her smile was genuine or not.

Would Relena marry without love? He thought she might, if the one she loved turned her down. It could be politically advantageous, but it had greater personal benefits. Heero knew Relena was lonely. She bore the weight of the universe on her shoulders, and everywhere she went she was treated like a piece of artwork. When things were really hard, she had always turned to him for the strength to keep going, even if it was just seeing him once in awhile. And then they had made love. And then they made love repeatedly. They had fallen in love. And he had left her. It didn't matter that he had thought doing so would protect her. He saw now that it might have had the opposite effect. She might have needed someone else, just to shore up the damage.

And that didn't begin to cover the destruction he had wrought.

There was also Alex Calhoun.

His specialty was demolition. He wished, not for the first time, that it was something else.

"Well," Trowa said finally to Heero. "It's not a perfect situation, but what is? I suppose what you do depends on how you feel. It was you who taught me to act on my emotions. What do you want, Heero?"

He looked again at the picture. There was no question as to how he felt.

"I want her to be happy," he said. "If she is happier with him, then I did the right thing. If not..." He closed his eyes, sorting through his feelings. "Then I need to correct my mistake."

"Then at the very least, you need to see her in person," Duo said. "We can help."

Quatre and Trowa turned to look at Duo.

"We can't do that," Quatre objected. "We promised we would stay here."

"Nope," Duo said. "We promised we wouldn't interfere with the mission. I didn't make any promises about not interfering with Heero's love life."

Quatre looked contrite for a moment, and then nodded.

Trowa shrugged. "It's a long flight, but if we leave now, we can make it in time. I'm in."

"Why not?" Wufei agreed. "Beats sitting around."

*****

Relena awoke at dawn the way she did most days, with her mind running through lists.

Only today was different than most days. This was her wedding day.

She lay in bed for a few moments, staring at the ceiling. She felt content, but should she feel something different? The list of things that needed to be done for the wedding clashed haphazardly with her political duties. There was a summit meeting this morning that it was imperative she attend, leaving her barely enough time to change into her wedding dress before the ceremony at three.

Her house manager Candace Mae bustled into the room before she had time to do more than sit up and put on her slippers.

"Candace Mae," Relena said as she accepted a saucer with a cup of hot black coffee. "Is it unreasonable that my first thought this morning was about my job?"

"Not knowing you, no," her elderly house manager replied, and frowned at her. "I suppose asking about it is your version of wedding jitters."

"I suppose," she replied, not really sure it was jitters. She felt perfectly calm. "I think I will be happier when all the fuss is over." She took a sip of coffee and waited for a reply. When she received none, she set the cup down on the saucer. "Is something wrong?"

Her house manager clicked her tongue. "I hope you are sure about what you are doing."

Relena sighed. "You mean about marrying Alex?" She smiled. "Candace Mae, you said yourself he was good for me."

"Oh, he's good for you, no question. A very fine man. But the best? I only wanted you to date Mr. Calhoun, if you remember. Marrying him was your decision, and I'm not sure it was the right one."

She knew exactly what Candace Mae was referring to, but she couldn't think of anything to say.

The objection, of course, was Heero.

When Alex proposed to her, Heero had just visited her for what he said was the last time. He had held their baby, looked her straight in the face, told her he loved her, and then said that she should marry someone else. He told her he would never be with her. He told her not to wait and not to hope.

What was she supposed to do?

After Alex proposed, some part of her kept thinking Heero would reappear and she would break off the engagement, but months went by with nothing, and the wedding drawing ever closer. It was impossible Heero would not have heard of it. And in the meantime, Alex was there. He understood her work, had an upbringing similar to hers, and shared her beliefs. He was kind and affectionate and good with the baby.

Theirs was a comfortable relationship, not a passionate one, but it was pleasant. Like her, Alex wasn't outwardly emotional. Like her, he was a gentle and work-driven person. Unlike her, he was not an idealist. He was not sentimental or romantic. His idea of marriage was as a union between two people looking to share the same life. In many ways, they balanced each other out, especially at work. Whereas Relena promoted a vision of an ideal world, Alex sought pragmatic solutions to everyday problems.

He treated her well.

Even so, she hadn't gone a day, perhaps not an hour, without thinking about Heero. It was impossible not to, not just because she loved him, but because he had so totally and dramatically changed her life. All of her work for peace was rooted—at least originally—in her reaction to the boy who had told her he would kill her. Even marrying someone else—even a lifelong marriage to someone else—couldn't erase that. She knew she would think of Heero forever. She would love him forever. Besides, the baby had his eyes.

But she wanted to be happy.

"I want to marry Alex," she told Candace Mae.

Her house manager nodded. "Then you don't need advice from old women, do you?"

The baby's cry distracted Relena from having to respond.

Relena set her coffee on the nightstand and made her way to the nursery.

He had just woken up, fussy as usual, but quieted when she entered the room and crouched next to the bassinet where he had been sleeping. Her son, named after Alex to protect him, looked at her with dark blue eyes like his father's. His face looked…soft…with faintly fuzzy cheeks, a tiny nose, tiny ears, and long fingers that curled into fists in the air. She lifted him and rocked.

Her baby—Heero's baby—was quite sensitive, which surprised her in some ways. She wondered what she would do with a sensitive child. When he cried for no reason—which was often—she didn't always know how to respond. She worried about being the kind of parent who, despite being hyper communicative in her work, would be unable to relate to her kid. Maybe it was a needless worry, but she hoped she wouldn't seem cold or formal to her son. He was hers. And Heero's. She loved him with her whole heart.

Candace Mae entered the room and softly shut the door. "I'll take him," she said. "You should get ready for your summit meeting."

"Thank you," she said.

Alex would be at the summit meeting too. They would spend the morning addressing questions from people who had specifically demanded Relena's presence due to her involvement in the Romafeller Foundation's decision to eliminate national borders. Afterward, she would change into her wedding dress. She and Alex would take separate cars to the cathedral in the city center. The wedding ceremony was at three, with a physical audience limited to the capacity of the cathedral, though the ceremony would be broadcasted to predetermined locations around the world where those interested people could watch. She had heard some places were selling tickets, which she didn't approve of. she could insist the money be used for causes benefiting peace.

"My life is a public spectacle," she said aloud to herself, "and a source of conflict. Heero, I can understand why you would want no part of that."

Except in protecting her so she could continue to fight for peace. That, she knew, he would always do, whether she ever saw him again or not.

*****

The pulpit at the Center House for Cultural Affairs faced an audience of five thousand, give or take. It was a small crowd for Relena. She stood on a stage in an auditorium, behind a pulpit, dressed in a business skirt and jacket, her hair gathered behind her head, her face a serene mask betraying no trace of nervousness.

Heero watched from the back of the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. It had been so long since he had seen her in person. She was… distracting.

"Heero, we're in position," Trowa relayed to him through the earpiece. "Duo has confirmed Relena will be going to room 2D to change after the question panel has ended. Quatre and Wufei will take care of security."

"Understood."

Their objective was to give Heero an opportunity with Relena following the summit meeting, during the time she was supposed to change for the wedding, and keep it a secret to protect them all. To accomplish this, Duo had joined the event staff providing refreshments to the guests following the summit. From this position, he had learned the whereabouts of Relena's dressing rooms and weaseled his way into being the guy who would attend her if necessary. He was also supposed to arrange transport.

However, Relena had a full security team in attendance, and they weren't idiots; Heero knew because he had vetted each of them. Fortunately, Wufei's Preventor credentials qualified him to be Quatre's bodyguard, who had dressed like a high profile businessman and assumed a false identity for the occasion. Wufei was chatting with the security team now, getting chummy with them. He and Quatre together were tasked with keeping them occupied while Heero slipped into Relena's rooms to speak with her.

Trowa was on surveillance. They had hacked into the video system already. Trowa would alert them of approaching trouble and was prepared to provide false footage to make it seem like none of them were ever here.

Given the situation, timing would be tight. As he watched Relena, Heero rehearsed what he would say. It had to be simple and clean. It had to convey his sincere feelings. It had to atone for his mistakes. It had to acknowledge the … complications.

Relena was not the only dignitary on stage. There was a panel of people present, including Alex Calhoun. The others were seated in a semi circle of chairs off to Relena's left, with one microphone to pass between them. Only Relena was granted a podium.

Heero listened as he thought.

"Minister, when you declared that all national borders should be dissolved, did you consider the repercussions such a thing would have on cultural identity and pride?"

"The Romafeller Foundation has always recognized the importance of cultural traditions," she replied. Her composure never altered. "People will always have differences, and these differences ought to be celebrated. Combining the nations of the world was not meant to dissolve differences between people, but to bring them together under a common identity of being human, for the sake of the peace we enjoy today."

A tumult of response rolled through the room.

One member in the audience shouted out. "Are we supposed to believe that mere labels of citizenship will result in unity? Some places in the world are hotbeds of controversy and violence due to differences. At least when we had countries, we had places of sanctity, places where people of like beliefs could gather together without fear."

This was Relena's life: a constant defending of her ideals. Heero had watched over Relena at enough of these types of meetings to be able to gauge the mood of the room. There was a mix of people in the audience, some representing groups who had lost power when nations were dissolved and others who had gained equality and feared any changes the others might demand. The numbers were in her favor, but the dissenters were louder.

"If I may say something," Alex Calhoun said, standing from his seat with the microphone in hand. "We think this issue has broad stakes and don't want to take it lightly. The question was about sanctity and places of safety."

Some murmuring followed this.

"There is fear because some of you feel that the people in power around you are either hostile to your religion or not hostile enough to religions you oppose. I think the regional governmental bodies in the places where you live could do a better job of addressing such fears, and perhaps better vetted for cultural sensitivity. Such measures would trickle down to your communities. The problem here is leadership."

"I agree," Relena said. "Your leaders should be better educated. Initiatives to foster cross-cultural understanding and interaction will help. I think understanding is a much better solution than separatism."

They worked well together, Relena and Alexander Calhoun. Heero acknowledged it without hesitance. He knew what he was here for.

Questions from the audience and discussion from the panel continued for another hour. Around noon, an aide whispered in Relena's ear.

"I have to apologize," she said to the crowd. "But as you all should be aware, I am getting married this afternoon. I recognize that we have not solved all of the issues brought here today. However, I think discussions like this are having a positive impact. I thank you for inviting me here and sharing your concerns. I hope to have more meetings like this in the future."

"Now's your chance," Trowa whispered in Heero's ear. "Security is waiting in the wings. If you hurry, you can beat Relena to her rooms."

"Won't they do a sweep?" he asked back.

"They just did. That's why now's the time to go."

"Understood."

*****

In the room set aside for her use in the Center House for Cultural Affairs, Relena mechanically shrugged out of her business jacket, unzipped her skirt, unbuttoned her blouse, and let down her hair. There was a dress bag for all of these items to be stowed. She put them away slowly.

Her wedding dress was hanging in the corner, along with heeled shoes, jewelry, and everything else she needed. It was a little cold in just her under garments, but she hesitated as she looked at the dress.

She was starting to feel nervous.

_This is it. I'm getting married_

The dress was beautiful. It was cream-colored rather than pure white, so as not to wash out her skin. The detailing was exquisite. Hand-made cream-colored silk roses were hand-stitched along the edge of the bodice, flowed diagonally across the chest to one hip, and spilled down to the floor in a broadening cascade. The full skirt swished pleasantly when she moved. There were no straps or sleeves of any kind.

At the cathedral, someone would do her hair and makeup. All she had to do was put on the dress and walk out of the back door of the building, surrounded by her security, where the limo to take her to the cathedral would be waiting. From there it was just a matter of time and final preparations.

In three hours, she would be married.

Smiling, she took the dress off of its hanger and pulled it over her head. The back was a row of pearl buttons that fit into tiny cloth loops. Normally, she might have someone to help her, but she had specifically asked to be left alone to change, knowing she would need a few minutes to herself between one event and the next. She thought herself quite capable of doing up the buttons, having done it during measurements, but today she was finding it challenging. For some reason, her hands were shaking.

"Relena."

She gasped and whirled, her heart hammering hard and fast in her chest.

From behind the dresser, a familiar face emerged.

"Heero," she breathed.

Further words failed her. In the presence of that face, those eyes, she couldn't speak.

_It's just the same_, she thought. _It's exactly the same with him_.

"I came to talk to you."

"How did you… How did you get in here? Is your mission over? What have you been doing? How…how are you?" She was babbling. He was making her babble. She couldn't think. She closed her mouth.

"I have something I need to say."

_Oh God._

He approached her with a purposeful stride, but as the space between them closed, he seemed to lose his words too. When he stopped, only inches away from her, he didn't say anything. He just stared. Before she could speak, he reached out to touch her, almost as if wired to do so. His fingertips brushed her lower cheek, just beside her lips, trailed down to her chin, and stopped.

Her breasts heaved with each breath she took. Relena's heart was beating so loudly it was the only sound in her ears.

"What do you want?" she managed to ask. It came out in a burst.

He seemed to start, almost imperceptibly, his eyes lifting to her face.

"I made a mistake," he said to her. "I've come to ask your forgiveness."

"A mistake?" she asked, still struggling to think. He was so close. All the synapses in her brain seemed to be misfiring. "What mistake?"

"I shouldn't have told you to marry Calhoun."

"What?"

His eyes became steely. They held her rapt. "I told you to marry him to protect you, and myself, from what I thought was a foolish idea. Being with you is foolish, Relena. Raising a child with you is even more foolish. But—"

His eyes bored into hers.

"--It's what I want."

She sagged. Her legs just gave out beneath her. She would have fallen, but Heero caught her arm, lifted her up, and pulled her against him. His body was rock solid. His skin was warm, his muscles hard, and his scent familiar. She could hear his heart beating—even more loudly than hers—beneath his chest. It took her a moment to realize he was trembling too.

"You can't do this," she gasped into his shirt.

His fingers threaded through his hair. His lips kissed her forehead.

_I can't do this._

But he was touching her, and it felt like heaven. Every rational thought fled her body. He didn't seem to be thinking either. His lips moved from her forehead to her cheek, and then to her lips. Before she knew it, she was kissing Heero, at first almost in a benign, familial way, but that lasted only until she registered the taste of him.

She didn't understand what it was, but she craved more, and felt powerless to stop it. Her body felt like it was the hotbox of a billion exploding stars. His hands in her hair wasn't enough. His mouth on her lips wasn't enough.

"Heero," she gasped when he allowed her to come up for air. She pushed her arms against his chest. "Stop. Please. You have to stop. This isn't right, and I don't have the strength to stop you. You have to stop."

She wasn't sure he heard her, or even that her words came out as words at all, or just as indecipherable begging. All she knew was that he didn't stop.

His hands become rough on her body, touching her everywhere now, his lips hungry but gentle. He kissed her throat, his tongue warm against her flesh, sending her thoughts tumbling. His breath was in her ear. Her eyes rolled back as she fought the wave of sensations that made her entire body throb.

"Please," she whispered. "Don't."

He pulled her arms apart, pressed her wrists against the wall, and pinned her with his body. She had no strength to stop him. She wasn't sure anymore that she wanted him to stop.

He kissed her neck, and then her clavicle, his tongue dancing on the ridges of her bones. His head dropped lower, moving down to her chest. He kissed her breasts where the cleavage was exposed. Relena was thinking less and less. Everything was hazy, soft, urgent, desperate. She never in her life felt anything like this with anyone but him.

In a panic, it occurred to her that she might never again.

"Don't…" It burst from her mouth. It came from her heart. "it was a contradiction to what she had said less than a minute ago. "…stop."

Heero released her wrists. She wrapped both arms around his head and shoulders, digging her fingers in his hair. He sank before her, his thumbs releasing her bodice where her breasts were half exposed. His fingertips trailed down her body from her ribs to her stomach to the tops of her thighs. He knelt at her feet.

Standing over him, she breathed heavily, catching her breath, head swimming from the effort. He looked up. His eyes, usually such a piercing dark blue, were as gentle as night rain. His face, usually all hard, uncompromising angles, was soft. He blinked slowly, languidly, lashes brushing his cheeks like feathers. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew. He loved her. He was deeply in love with her.

He was stopping.

"No," she said. "No no no." She collapsed to the ground herself.

He didn't respond. He merely bowed forward, as if his head were very heavy. She lifted it in her hands, cradled his face, and then brought his head to her chest. To her surprise, he let her. She could hear his breathing, still labored and ragged. She could feel his skin, still hot to the touch, the pulse in his neck racing beneath her fingertips.

"I wasn't thinking," he whispered.

"Let's not think."

She wasn't sure where that came from. She didn't think she meant it, but she wasn't thinking enough to be sure.

"That's crazy—"

"I can't help it around you."

He lifted his head. They were both on the ground, facing each other. He opened his mouth, seemed about to speak, and then kissed her deeply instead.

She inhaled his kiss. Her tongue sought his without thought. He kissed her back, rising up on his knees, his hand wrapping around her head, pulling her as close to him as he could. He devoured her. She felt her body stirring, wanting to be closer, wanting more of him. He ran his free hand down her chest to her breasts. She felt him cup her left breast and her entire body responded.

"I want you," she begged between kisses, gasping for breath. When he didn't move to undress her, her hands fumbled for his shirt.

He groaned in her mouth.

His shirt buttons came apart beneath her fingers. She slid her hands beneath the material, making contact with his skin. He was hot to the touch. She caught her breath and pulled the rest of his buttons apart. His shirt hung open. She wrapped one hand around his neck and pulled herself closer. Her other hand ran down his chest, followed by her lips.

Heero's eyes closed. He relaxed, although his heart was beating harder. She half crawled into his lap. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her against him.

She couldn't move.

She really couldn't move.

"Heero?"

"We have to stop."

His voice was firm. It broke through her delirium.

Several minutes passed while he held her. Gradually, Relena's senses realigned. Rational thought rushed back. When she could think again, shame rolled over her in waves. She pushed herself out of Heero's arms, tears filling her eyes.

"Oh my god," she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. "I'm horrible!"

_Alex…_

Heero didn't offer sympathy. He allowed her space, and looped his elbows around his knees. For several moments, he didn't move or say anything. He just looked at her, choosing his words. When he spoke, his eyes were clear again.

"I don't think what just happened was a mistake."

Relena couldn't find words with which to respond.

"I have one other thing to say."

She almost couldn't see him through her tears. "What?"

"I should be the one marrying you."

Relena stared at him, befuddled and amazed. Shame swamped every other emotion.

_What kind of person am I?_

"Relena."

"Huh?"

"I'm asking you to marry me."

*****

Duo waited as long as it was reasonably safe to do so before knocking on the door of 2D. When no one answered, he pushed the door open and popped his head in.

Heero was standing in the middle of the room, staring at his reflection in the mirror.

"Um, transport is ready, Heero. You guys ready?"

Duo looked around. Relena was not in the room.

"How'd it go?"

Heero growled.

"Where is she?"

"The church."

Heero abruptly turned, zipped up his jacket, and brushed past Duo.

"And where are you going?"

"The church."

TBC

If you're wondering about the next update, December 2009 isn't outrageous. I plan to do NanoWrimo in November, and I am writing a Naruto fic I hope to update between now and Halloween. So… December is ambitious, as it takes me many weeks to write a chapter. If you came back to read the story, or if you are reading it for the first time, please review! I appreciate any comments, the more robust the better.


	11. Wedding

Happy 2010! I apologize for not updating in December as I hoped. I said it was an aggressive timeline when I thought I would write the next chapter of White Rain in October (Naruto fanfic), before NanoWrimo. That didn't happen, so after recovering from Nanowrimo (I won—yay!) I still had to write White Rain first. I started Amour right afterwards, but as you can see, the first weekend of January was the best I could do.

I hope this chapter does not come off as rushed. The conflict here is uncomfortable, as it would be if someone were really in this situation, I think.

Amour

Chapter 11

By Zapenstap

The cathedral was filled to bursting. Invited guests clustered within the nave alongside security, and camera crews and spilled out the entryway and down the broad stone steps. While ushers sat the invited guests, around the outside of the cathedral, throngs of people gathered to witness the event via television screens erected or the occasion and set to broadcast worldwide. Bodies swarmed for blocks in every direction, absent only where lines had been drawn to allow vehicles access to and from the church.

The car carrying Relena was an unremarkable SUV with tinted glass windows. Her limo followed some blocks behind her, sent separately to draw attention. The strategy seemed to be working as the streets ahead were clear and the ones behind were growing more congested as people broke the parade lines to intercept her limo.

Relena stared straight in front of her, eyes on the church as it drew ever closer. The architecture of the cathedral should have seized her breath with its chiseled stone, flying buttresses, and stained glass windows depicting various scenes of biblically religious significance. From her prior visits, she knew the inside to be even more dazzling, with a roof arching heavenward over hundreds of pews laid out in rows divided by aisles. Today, pillars and pews would be wrapped with silk ribbon and decorated with tiny silver bells. The dais would be adorned with white lilies. The center aisle down which she would walk would be strewn with rose petals.

But Relena couldn't appreciate it. She could barely think.

Her driver successfully evaded detection, following a pre-mapped route to deliver her at the back entrance so she could make her way to the dressing room just off the social hall, preferably without any kind of public display. The measures were meant to keep her out of magazines before the ceremony.

When the car stopped, Relena hobbled out of the passenger seat without waiting for the driver to open the door. She fended off any assistance. The church stipulated that she arrived dressed, if not altogether ready, so she stood on the curb in her wedding dress, a shawl around her shoulders. Her hair would be redone inside. Her makeup needed reapplication. On her own, she moved swiftly but dazedly inside, seeking the appointed dressing room by rote memorization. She arrived without incident.

A beautician awaited in the dressing rooms to assist her. Relena sat at the vanity while her hair was combed, curled, twisted, and pinned up on her head betwixt strands of pearls and pins beset with white carnations. Makeup was reapplied. Airy white and rose pink shimmer was dusted over her eyes above dark eyeliner while her cheekbones were faintly rouged and lustrous gloss applied to her lips.

"Lovely," the beautician exclaimed, turning Relena toward the mirror. "Natural looking, with a touch of ethereal grace."

Relena looked at her face. The visage was exquisite, elegant and artistically crafted, emphasizing her best features without over-accentuating. It didn't look at all like she felt. She couldn't smile, not even a hair.

She turned to the stylist, hands in her lap. "Thank you," she said. "It is beautiful. Can you carry a message?"

"Well of course, Miss Relena. What do you need?"

"I require a delay. Please find the minister."

The girl's eyes widened. "Postpone the ceremony, Miss Relena?"

"Yes. I need to see Alex."

The woman's eyelashes fluttered. She seemed beside herself, turning her head back and forth, as if searching for someone on whom to foist the responsibility. "But you aren't _supposed_ to see him. You're in your wedding dress, Miss Relena!"

The door behind them open and shut with a sharp thump.

Relena shifted slightly in her seat. Candace Mae's lips were drawn in a tight line. Relena returned the old woman's stare calmly, but inside, her emotions began to churn. Seeing the woman's face was enough to know that she would have to explain, and explaining to Candace Mae meant telling everything. Relena almost couldn't stand to _think_ it. She had to force herself to remain calm in front of the beautician. She wouldn't cry. Not even if were alone. Crying would not solve anything. Crying never had and never would. But then, neither could anything else she had thought of, which was why she wanted to cry.

"Best to do as she says, girl," Candace Mae suggested to the beautician. "Mr. Calhoun will understand. As for the delay, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about. Go on. Tell the minister. The guests are being seated."

The beautician rushed out of the room. Candace Mae shut the door behind her and arched an eyebrow at Relena. "Now," she said. "What is this about?"

Relena swallowed. She pressed a hand to her stomach and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her eyes remained dry, though stinging from pressure. She thought purposefully of nothing. White space. Blankness.

"Relena?" Candace Mae asked.

Relena dared not breathe a word until the heat vanished from her face. She was calm.

"Heero is here," Relena said. "Well not _here_, but he was at the convention."

"You saw him?"

"He kissed me, Candace Mae."

Relena meant to say more, but she couldn't. As firmly as she felt she had controlled her emotions, heat rushed to her head the second Heero's name left her tongue. She stopped speaking, feeling drunk from the heaviness of it.

"I see," Candace Mae whispered. "Well, he wouldn't be the first man to steal a kiss before a wedding."

Relena again tried to wrap everything in white, in blankness, in nothing, but it was futile. She couldn't have this conversation. She couldn't have _any_ conversation and still remain calm. But she had to speak.

"I let him," she confessed. "And it was worse than a kiss. I lost my mind. I don't know how. It was just that he said all kinds of things. He said…" She stopped, chest burning, unable to continue.

"What?" Candace Mae prompted. "That he loves you?"

"Yes. That. _And_ that it was a mistake to tell me to marry someone else. He then he asked me to marry _him_."

Candace Mae's eyebrows shot up. She crossed her arms. "Well!" she said. She seemed too flabbergasted even to dispense good sense. "Isn't that something?"

Relena pressed her forehead to the back of the dressing room chair, cooling it against the wood, breathing deeply to calm the shaking in her stomach. She felt nauseous. She might sick up at any moment. She had never felt like this for an emotional reason, not even when addressing millions of people.

"Did anyone witness this proposal?" Candace Mae asked finally.

Relena shook her head mutely. No one had seen, but what did that matter? Her heart knew. She couldn't erase it. She couldn't pretend it didn't happen. She could still feel Heero's lips on hers. She could feel his body, the harness of his muscles, the heat of his racing blood, the scent of him on her skin. Being in his arms was like… well, it was like nothing she had ever felt with anyone. She melted right into his frame, as if she were constructed to fit there. It was too much. She had lost more than her mind.

"It's my fault," she said. "It's all my fault. I hoped too much and I pushed too hard and then I gave up. I chose this. What am I going to tell Alex?"

"What do you want to tell him?"

Relena squeezed her eyes shut. What _could_ she tell him?

What was the right thing to do? Was it to marry Alex, whose ring she wore, who she had promised herself to, and forget Heero, when her heart—her entire body—wanted Heero? She couldn't deny that anymore than she could deny needing to breathe. But she had promised Alex. She had betrothed herself to Alex. What _could_ she do?

Breaking an engagement right before a wedding wasn't unheard of. Wasn't it better than marrying someone insincerely? But even thinking of it that way didn't make her feel better. Everything about it was wrong. She was a villain and she knew it. Oh, Alex was under no delusion that she was in love with him. She had never claimed to be. He didn't believe in such things. But she had committed herself to a life with him and because of that he had invested his life in her, and in her baby. He knew the baby wasn't his, but he had cared for it as if it were, and he had kept the secret because she had asked him to. How could she hurt him? She couldn't see how she couldn't. She couldn't see a clean way out.

Because there _was_ no clean way. It was a mess and she was dirtied. She had to admit that. Come what may, she owed him the truth. She knew that much.

But telling the truth meant betraying Heero, whose very presence in her life had to be a secret—for the sake of Heero himself, and the baby, and herself even, possibly for the peace of the world should things go very badly. It was because of that that she had lied in the first place. What _was_ she do?

Candace Mae couldn't help. She had to decide.

Alex was on the way.

*****

"Heero, this is nuts. What are you going to do in front of all these people?"

Duo was wearing a brimmed hat and a gray trench coat he had swiped from the coat closet, which he had pulled down over his head to hide his face. They stood in the nave of the cathedral, their backs to the wall. You couldn't look anywhere without seeing flowers and ribbons. Hundreds of candles blazed in candelabras mounted in every nook and cranny. All around them, people were finding their seats.

Duo and Heero didn't have seats. They weren't supposed to be here at all. The only people allowed inside were 'intimate' guests on the invited list, which topped several hundred at least, overflowing to the point where not all the bodies would fit in the pews. Most of the guests were family members, dignitaries, celebrities, special staff, and so on.

Duo had stolen invitations and lied to get them inside. He justified it on the premise that Relena would have sent them actual invitations, had they not been out of reach in a bunker hiding from terrorists. Besides which, they were here to stop the wedding, so no one would really suffer a loss from not being able to get in. At least, stopping the wedding was Heero's plan.

"I think this is romantic and everything, but I thought you said that if she rejected you, you'd give up and leave her alone?" Duo hissed at him. "I don't like this. We're way over-exposed. You do realize someone might _expect_ you to show up here, don't ya?"

"I said I'd leave her alone if she was happier with him," Heero replied, ignoring Duo's latter concern, which was both obvious and irrelevant. "If she was happy."

"How do you know she's not happy?"

"She doesn't love him. She's in love with me."

Duo sighed.

It wasn't pretention or wishful thinking that made Heero say so. He had felt it. When he had kissed her, against all measures of decorum, which Relena valued, every part of her had gravitated to every part of him. No one who felt the way she had in his arms should marry someone else.

It made no difference to Heero that Alex Calhoun was a nice man or a worthy gentleman or an eligible suitor or her fiancé or anything else that might be true. Such arguments were for people who believed in fairness. Heero didn't believe in fairness. He'd seen too much unfairness. What he believed was that Relena loved him. What he knew was that he wanted her to be his—exclusively and forever.

Heero regretted Alex's pain, but the suffering was unavoidable. In war, people died, even innocent people. In love, people lost, even good people. It wasn't how he preferred things, but he wasn't going to give up Relena for a principle of 'everybody wins' that he didn't believe in. Eventually, when the sting faded, Alex might realize it was for the best.

Even if Heero _couldn't_ convince Relena, he wasn't sure he would give her up. Even if she married Alex, he wasn't sure he would ignore her. It wouldn't be the first time he kept fighting after the battle was over.

"Help me find her," Heero said. "We don't have much time and I don't know much about churches. Where would she be?"

Duo eyed him askance. "If you don't find her, you're going to interrupt the ceremony, aren't you? In front of a dozen camera crews and never mind that you're wanted by terrorists or that I'm in danger _being_ here with you, and—"

"Duo." There was no need to add more. Heero just looked at him.

"She's probably in a room by the social hall, some place with a mirror." Duo said. "You know girls. They have to look their best for weddings."

Heero didn't know girls, but Relena would do what was proper unless it went against her sense of justice, or in his case, if she just couldn't help herself. He nodded thoughtfully. "I'll find her. You inform the others of what is happening. We might need them if something goes wrong. Tell them to initiate Operation Starcross."

Duo rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "What could possibly go wrong?" He sighed audibly. "All right. All right. I just hope you know what you're doing."

*****

By the time Alex knocked on the door, Relena had composed herself. She tried to assume the cool and commanding presence she would exude in a diplomatic situation, but she had to settle for merely collected. This wasn't diplomatic. Matters of international importance, even those in which she had a personal stake, were far different than what she was about to do.

The knock sounded a second time. "Relena?" Alex called through the door. "Are you all right?"

"I'll get it," Candace Mae said, and crossed the room to open the door.

Relena took a deep breath and stood. Upon entering, Alex murmured something to Candace Mae, who murmured something back in a voice too quiet to hear. He seemed distressed, but not overly. He didn't quite look at her, his eyes on the floor, perhaps to avoid seeing her dress.

Relena took him in plainly, carving the image into her memory for a keepsake. Alexander Calhoun wore his best tuxedo. He was a handsome man, though not in the same way as Heero. He had more of the chiseled, crafted look to him, with the kind of distinguished face that men could wear without change until they were quite old. She never imagined him in anything more casual than a suit—not during the day anyway. He was that kind of person, always professional, though he was not stiff; in the time they had spent together, he smiled and laughed a lot.

He didn't smile now.

"You can look at me, Alex," she said.

He lifted his head, eyeing her professionally. The only thing to betray concern was a slight crinkle between his eyebrows. She wondered what her own face looked like. It felt like a mask.

There was a moment of silence.

"You look beautiful," Alex told her. "But it's supposed to be bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony. What is this about? Has something happened?"

"I'll go make tea," Candace Mae announced, and quietly excused herself from the room.

"Not politically," Relena said once they were alone. "It's personal."

She observed the change in his face, the crinkle deepening, his eyes becoming disconcerted. She was careful to keep her own from reflecting the storm that raged turbulently was inside her, threatening to rip her apart. She cared about this man. She could not break down in front of him. If she did, he would try to comfort her, and that would be an insult when he understood the reason for this summons.

"What is the problem?" he asked. "Are you nervous? Is it the cameras? I told you we didn't have to make a big fanfare of this if—"

"It's not that," she interrupted. "I have to tell you something."

She could see the panic she was causing him. It threatened to shred her composure, but she couldn't rush. She had to be as clear and deliberate as possible.

"It's about the father of the baby," she said. "He heard about the wedding. He came to see me."

Emotions flitted across Alex's face. Surprise was primary. The rest were difficult to read. "When?"

"Just today," she said. No need to let him imagine things to be worse than they were. "At the convention, after I changed. I haven't…been with him or anything. I didn't think I'd ever see him again."

"Then it doesn't matter," Alex said. He sounded immensely relieved. "If he bothers you again, I'll take care of it. We'll put security on alert. Can you give a description?"

Security? Stop Heero? It was almost ludicrous. If Relena had the capacity for amusement, she would have laughed. Alex didn't know who Heero was. And he seemed to be missing the point. But that was her fault. She wasn't being direct enough.

"I still love him, Alex."

The words hung in the air, like smoke after a vanishing flame. To his credit, Alex seemed to take her statement without reacting harshly, a testament to his discipline as a diplomat. He knew how to control his feelings, even those that were sharp and hot. He was adept at thinking rationally under pressure, and he knew the importance of asking intelligent questions for clarification before coming to a conclusion. "How do you know?" he asked.

"He kissed me. I kissed him back."

He took a deep breath. "It's not unreasonable to think you might always have feelings for the father of your child—"

"It wasn't that kind of kiss, Alex."

Consternation replaced thoughtfulness. He had been prepared to give her the benefit of the doubt, but no longer. She could see it in the lock of his jaw and the tightening of his hands into fists. He was breathing heavier. He also seemed to be having trouble processing, evidence that she had upset him. He didn't look at her. And Relena didn't speak. Nothing she could say would help. It would only give him reason to shout at her. She deserved that, at the very least, but it wouldn't resolve matters. He needed the chance to think and respond.

"All right," he said at length, his voice hoarse, his face red with the effort of maintaining control. "So you're saying that this man, this miscreant who gave you a child and then abandoned you, has waited until the last second before sweeping in on the day of your wedding to…what exactly? Confess his feelings? Make promises? What are saying exactly? That the wedding is off?"

"Alex--"

He laughed, interrupting her. It wasn't a laugh of mirth, but of incredulousness, released to break the tension. Then, all of a sudden, his face reddened with fury. "I know a hundred guys like this!" he shouted. "I didn't think you were the kind of girl to fall for it!"

He stopped as soon as he spoke, wrestling for control. She waited, silent. He closed his eyes, visibly calming down, and opened them again to composure. But she could tell that he was still angry.

"Relena, men will say all kinds of things to get what they want. What they want is simple to understand if you're a man. Lust is a powerful motivator, but not the only one. Men don't want other men to have what was theirs. It's about pride. And control. Just because he said a bunch of things doesn't mean he loves you. If he loved you, he wouldn't have left."

Relena wanted to speak, but she couldn't find words.

Alex shook his head. "I don't believe in fairy tale love, Relena, the kind of declarations. You know that. And it's not because I'm cold or cynical. I do believe in romancing, as far as it serves to make another person feel special, but the only kind of 'in love' I've ever seen is when two people pretend to be idiots for each other so they don't have to reconcile each other's flaws. It doesn't last. No one is perfect. Loving someone—really loving someone—means you care about them the same whether they are on their best behavior or their worst and whether you want to love them or not. It's a choice, not an emotion. That's how I love you, and it's why I asked you to marry me, because I think we can do that for each other. This guy has confused you. He's the father of your child and there's a biological argument there that I understand could be confusing, but step back and look at the facts. Are you sure you're not just nervous? I've been here, with you, this whole time. Where has he been?"

Relena closed her eyes. She swayed on her feet. She needed to sit down. There was no denying that Alex was a persuasive speaker! That was, after all, what they had in common.

And he did have a point. The only difference in Relena's understanding of love was that she didn't think she _pretended_ to be an idiot where Heero was concerned. Maybe other people pretended, but Relena felt she _actually_ became one. It caused her embarrassment given how much control she had in other matters, and yet she couldn't stop. She had made so many bad decisions, just to keep Heero near. And it wasn't just since they had started seeing each other again. She had _always_ been an idiot over Heero. She was known to be bold in other matters she felt strongly about, but boldness turned to insanity when it came to Heero. She had jumped in front of gunfire for him when she knew barely more than his name.

She didn't know what to say to Alex, not without giving away too much. Besides which, he would just argue that idiocy was no basis for love, real or imagined, and she would have to concede his point. After all, maybe he was right. There was no way to prove that her feelings meant she and Heero would be any happier together than she and Alex. Maybe what she felt for Heero _was_ foolish.

Relena opened her mouth to tell him her thoughts when the door burst open.

Alex whirled.

Relena stared, her lips parted slightly. She felt as if her jaw had become unhinged. Not a word escaped. Only her eyes moved, following Heero's entrance into the room.

He looked straight at her, seeking her out as if she were the only thing the world worth looking at. He took in her wedding dress, snug at the hips, bare at the shoulders, with silk flowers cascading down one side and the pearls and carnations pinned in her honey blonde hair. The sight of her seemed to strike him silent.

A moment passed, and then Heero turned steely blue eyes on Alex. They were so hard, so filled with purpose, that they seemed to physically force the other man to look away. Relena had never seen Alex have trouble looking any man in the face, but he glanced to the side beneath Heero's stare, if only for a moment. When Alex turned his head back, his features were just as hard.

"You must be him," Alex said. The words came out like bits of metal spat through a grinder. "The father of Relena's baby. The one who left her."

"Yeah," Heero replied. His eyes didn't change at all. "I came here to say something."

There was a moment of silence.

"I'm marrying Relena," Heero said.

Alex staggered in place, as if he had missed his footing.

"I came here to stop her from marrying you so I could marry her."

Relena felt her face flush. She couldn't speak.

Alex didn't say anything either. He seemed to be trying to process what kind of man would say what Heero had just said to the finance of another man on their wedding day. There was absolutely nothing polite or diplomatic about the approach. Heero spoke with assumed certainty.

"I love her," Heero added. By his tone, he really did seem to think that finished it.

Alex punched Heero in the face.

Relena screamed. It caught her by surprise, shocking her out of silence. Alex had never punched anybody. She hadn't even seen him swing his arm back. Heero must have seen it, but he let the fist hit him. He just stood still, impassive and accepting, arms at his sides. Alex didn't hold back either. Heero's face turned completely to the side, an ugly bruise blossoming on his cheek and upper jaw almost immediately upon impact.

Alex's fist remained clenched as he withdrew. It must have been throbbing. Heero turned his head back. His steely eyes didn't change at all. Alex lowered his arm, astounded enough by the unruffled reaction for surprise to replace fury, though the feeling of anger still radiated around him.

"I deserve that," Heero responded. "I understand how you must feel. You can hit me again if you want. But I'm taking Relena."

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Alex demanded.

"No one of consequence."

"And you think you can just come in here and take my fiancé from me?" Alex continued, his voice rising again. "I'll tell you what kind of man you are! You're the kind who abandons a woman when she needs a man the most. A lowlife. You don't even know your own child."

"That's true," Heero said.

"No it isn't!" Relena said, stepping between Alex and Heero. "Alex, please stop. This isn't the way to handle this. Heero didn't abandon me. He—"

"Yes, I did," Heero interrupted her, his eyes on Alex. "I did abandon her. There were other things I could have done than what I did."

Alex grunted.

Heero closed his eyes briefly and then opened them. He seemed to address them both equally. "I'll say this. I made the decision I thought was best for everyone at the time. However, it was a mistake. The mistake can't be rectified, except to say that it was the wrong decision and by attempting to do what I should have done in the first place. I should have told you I would be back for you, Relena. At worst, I could have hidden you away."

Relena pressed a hand to her head, which seemed to be spinning. It occurred to her that she hadn't eaten anything in seven hours. "What are you saying, Heero? That you would have locked me up somewhere? I wouldn't have let you and you know it."

"Only if things got bad. The world would have survived without you for a little while."

"What are you talking about?" Alex demanded. "Are you seriously saying you would have abducted her? Are you some kind of psycho?"

"That's _not_ what he's saying, Alex," Relena said. "And he _didn't_ abandon me. Heero didn't know I was pregnant when he left."

Alex didn't seem the least bit soothed. "Is that supposed to make me like him? Relena, the whole world knew you were pregnant. All it takes is a little math. "

"It wasn't hard to figure out," Heero agreed. He was so matter-of-fact about admitting guilt that she wanted to hit him herself. "I suspected she might be as soon as I heard she was seeing you."

Alex's lips thinned in a hard line. "So you knew the baby was yours. You even knew what a political problem that would be for her. And you still left her to fend for herself? You're a cold one. Cold as stone. I don't know what she saw in you."

Relena wanted to sink through the floorboards. How did she explain to Alex Heero's situation without endangering them both, not to mention the baby? No one was supposed to know that she and Heero even saw each other anymore.

"What I do know," Alex continued, "is that you aren't good enough for Relena. This show of bravado doesn't endear you to me at all. You're uncouth at best. At worst, you'd be a danger to her, not to mention a terrible influence on the child. Relena is a refined woman. I don't mean to sound like a self-important jerk, but her life is political. A person like you would cause trouble for her. She can do better and has done. This is our day. Please leave."

"I can't do that."

"Heero—" Relena began.

Alex seethed over her. "You can't sweep in an hour before a wedding ceremony and expect to make off with the bride! How in God's name would you even take care of her? How would you raise that child? Anyone can tell you have no experience with such things. I don't know where you come from, but I can't be far wrong in thinking you have no family to speak of. Maybe leaving her _was_ the best thing you could do."

"Alex, please don't," Relena implored. "Heero, you don't have to—"

"He's right," Heero said, still in that tone that offered acknowledgment of failure without self-pity or obsequiousness. "I don't have any family to speak of. I can't claim I really even know what family means. I don't know anything about taking care of babies or raising children and I can't claim that a life with Relena won't have difficulties. I have a lot to learn. However, I can assure you that I am aware of her political situation more acutely than you are."

"I don't see how that's possible," Alex said.

"Relena lives in the public sphere. All the lights are on her. But I see what goes on in the dark beneath her feet. If not for people like me, people like you wouldn't last long enough for your message to be heard. If you want to know what I do--"

"Heero!" Relena said, more sharply this time. "This isn't necessary. There's no need for the two of you to argue. This situation isn't something you can fight out. It must be resolved by _my_ decision. And it's not a choice between which of you is better!"

Smoothing her dress, Relena faced both of them. She had thought about this. She just had to get it out.

"Alex, there are some things about Heero you don't understand. I know he's brash, but he has reason. Heero, you are _intruding_. Alex has every right to want you thrown out of here. I don't want you to fight. It doesn't solve anything. I am the one who bears responsibility for creating this situation. I must be the one to resolve it."

She turned first to Alex. "Alex, you are right about everything you have said, but you must see that I can't marry you."

She halted. She was forced to by the expression on his face, as if she had slapped him. No. Stabbed him. She forced herself to continue.

"Not like this. I can't love you the way you deserve, the way you spoke of, as long as I have feelings like this for someone else. Alex, I am…sorrier…than I can ever say."

She couldn't look at his face anymore. She couldn't bear it. She could feel the swift stab of pain she had given him radiating from his silence.

She turned to Heero.

"Heero, I can't marry you either. I don't even know why you would ask me. It is too dangerous, and I—"

She paused again, though Heero's face hadn't changed a hair. It was getting hard to breathe. As she spoke, she felt as if she were suffocating on her own air. It was like the passageways from her lungs to her heart were closing off. Her chest tightened.

"I have a duty that is bigger than this," she said to them both. "It's true that I wanted a family, but I do have a son now, and I can raise him without needing to depend on either of you."

She forced herself to look up.

Alex was sadness itself, though he had somewhat stonewalled behind a veneer of professionalism. Even so, she could tell how deeply she had wounded him. She knew it by knowing him, though it may not be obvious to others. He had done everything right, and now it was all destroyed, without any warning at all. She hoped he wasn't broken beyond repair, but for the time being, defeat and disillusion engulfed him in a cloud of gloom. Maybe, in a short while, he would be angry again. She almost hoped so. And she had no right to expect forgiveness. Not ever.

She took a deep breath. "Heero, I don't expect that I shall be able to convince you to stop protecting me, but given the pain I've caused, and considering how complicated this is, maybe it's best that you do what you have to do without me knowing, like you used to. If I never see you, it will be like you intended. I don't want you to think that you abandoned me or failed me in any way. I do care for you, but I can't see any path to happiness here. I can't say I deserve happiness. No one can expect to have everything that is good, and I have my share of blessings. My life is purposeful. Loneliness is a small price to pay for what I can accomplish. I'm sorry I wasn't able to accept it before, but I've grown a little, and I think it's best now if you leave me alone."

She made herself look at him.

Heero's face was an altogether different study than Alex's. He looked like he could punch through a wall by doing nothing but looking at it. Unexpectedly, he strode toward her. His walk was dangerous, and swift. A few steps was all that was necessary. She caught her breath, stepping back. Alex looked up, startled, eyes wide. Ignoring him, Heero touched Relena's chin. He lifted her face up, peering down at her.

"I mean it," she said. She glared at him through a haze of shimmering tears that encroached without warning across her eyes. He smiled down at her, as if he found her tearful defiance endearing.

"I promised I would protect you," he told her. "It seems I need to explain to you what that means."

Relena swallowed. Her whole body started to shake.

"I heard Alex say something interesting before I let myself in," Heero said. "He said that love isn't a feeling, but a choice. He's right. I didn't come here for a feeling, Relena. I've felt the same way about you for years."

"That's not—"

"Your purpose is to bring peace to the world. That's what you are saying."

"Heero--"

"I thought mine was to protect you so you can do that. But that view was shortsighted. You need someone to love you, Relena. My purpose is to love you so you can do your job."

Her eyes widened. "Heero, you _cannot_ say things like that. That doesn't even make sense! You have _many_ purposes. Protecting me is just a choice you made. I—"

"I didn't say loving you was the only useful thing I can do," he interrupted her. "Or even that it always comes first. But what is happening in the world doesn't change how I feel about you, and it's not just because you are instrumental to peace. We both gave our lives to the preservation of the world we live in today, for the sake of humanity. Relena, _my_ world _is_ you."

She fell silent.

"You need love. I don't want to hear you pretending that you don't. I know you struggle with loneliness. Don't blight what you are trying to achieve by sacrificing happiness. I don't want to see you settling for less than what is the absolute pinnacle of your ideal. What makes you a beacon of light in this world is that you _believe_ the things you say. You believe in so much more than I ever did. You made me believe too. You never understood how extraordinary that was."

She couldn't speak.

"Ten years ago, I didn't believe my life had any meaning or purpose. Nine years ago, I didn't believe in peace. A year ago, I didn't believe in love. The fact that Alex doesn't believe you, or anyone, can fall in love is what makes me certain he is not the right man for you. I have fallen in love with you. You are someone who has changed my entire world."

"Don't say that," she implored, not because she didn't want to hear it, but because it pulled her apart. What was he saying? _He_ had changed _her_ entire world. She could feel her will unraveling. She was going to say or do something stupid if he kept talking.

"I know what I want," he said. His finger brushed her cheek. Her eyes stared into his. "And I know this has been hard. I've wronged you by taking so long to see what is obvious. Because of that, you've hurt someone who didn't deserve it and you've been hurt. I won't promise it will be easy from now on. I can't promise I won't make any more mistakes, but I came here because of a decision. I've decided to love you. For better or worse, that's what I mean to do. Forever."

She just shook her head, but his hands cradled her face, and she couldn't escape.

"How do you do this to me?" she demanded. "How do you turn the world upside down?"

He was the source of her strength, but tears sprang to in her eyes in front of him. Alex was staring at her as if he had never seen her before. His head swiveled toward Heero.

"Who _are_ you?" Alex demanded.

The door banged open.

Relena barely had time to process. Of the faces that entered, she recognized only Candace Mae. The old woman's face was gray, her eyes wide, wisps of hair flying around her head. Three men and a woman filed in behind her, all of them wearing black suits similar to those of the security guards hired for the event. They were holding guns. One was jabbed against Candace Mae's back, judging by her stiff posture and arching chest. Another, held by the red-headed woman in front, was aimed at them.

"Heero Yuy," she said in a voice that was close to a purr. "Toss your gun over here. Quietly."

Heero's eyes remained on Relena for a fraction of a second. She saw only calm. He spoke without hardly moving his lips. "Don't worry, and don't do anything rash. I'll handle this."

He turned slowly, raising both hands. As he did, Relena saw a gun tucked in the waistband of his pants at the small of his back. He took it out, set it on the ground, and slid it across the floor. One of the men picked it up.

"How did you find me?" Heero asked, hands still in the air.

"We had intelligence that you once had a liaison with the Vice Minister," the woman replied. "We didn't

expect you to show up, but we were, of course, quite pleased when you did. A little interrogation in the right place revealed why." She put on a hand on Candace Mae's shoulder.

Relena gasped. How long ago did Candace Mae go for tea? Her house manager would not have willingly betrayed her. The gray of her face took on a new meaning. Her forehead was matted with sweat. She looked exhausted. What kind of people tortured an old woman?

The redhead smiled.

Alex moved.

It happened too fast for Relena. Alex attempted to close the gap between him and one of the guards, his face grim as death. What he meant to do was unclear. Relena felt more than saw Heero bolt away from her, directly toward Alex. The swiftness of his reaction left a void in his wake.

Two shots were fired.

Relena's eyes widened. Her breath had stopped. Her heart raced.

Alex was on the ground. He screamed, crying out unintelligibly, and then went very quiet, his legs jerking. Two of the men held guns, both of which were smoking. Relena could see blood pooling on the floor around Alex, though she could not see where he had been struck. Her hand leapt to mouth, but not in time to stifle a cry.

Heero knelt beside Alex. He seemed to be checking his vitals. Heero's arm was bleeding, though he didn't seem to notice. A bullet had either penetrated or grazed his forearm, leaving a torn white sleeve that was quickly soaking with red. Blood dripped from the cuff onto his hand and fingers.

Either the second shot was poorly aimed, or it had been aimed at Alex and Heero got in the way.

"He's alive," Heero announced. Relena sobbed relief. Heero looked up at the intruders. "You've made your point. I'll come along quietly. You can let them go. This man needs medical assistance."

The red-headed woman's full lips turned upward in a smile. "That's very amusing, Mr. Yuy. But we're taking all of you, just to make sure you don't do anything…stupid." She waved to the men behind her. "Separate Ms. Darilan from Mr. Yuy, Harold. Keep a gun at her back." Her smiled never flickered. "Just so you know, Mr. Yuy, we've got your baby too. Do anything and we'll start killing hostages. No warnings."

Heero's eyes glittered. He slowly rose to his feet.

TBC

I hope to conclude this in one more chapter, but we'll see. It takes as long as it takes. Please review! I really hope for it. It is such a joy to read comments, the more detailed the better. Frankly, I need the motivation to keep juggling multiple projects.


	12. Conclusion

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Gundam Wing or the characters Heero and Relena. This is just a fan work.

Amour

Chapter 12

By Zapenstap

"What is taking so long?" Wufei demanded.

Duo wondered the same thing, but he only shrugged. Trowa didn't say anything either.

The three of them were waiting at the designated meeting point, a hallway that led to a stairwell that let out into a small parking garage beneath the church. They were all wearing nondescript worker uniforms. They even had papers, courtesy of Trowa, who had hacked into the church's computer system and discovered a legitimate work order that had been placed for repairing fixtures near the altar for the ceremony. The real workers had already come and gone, but they had crafted official looking documents that would fool anyone who didn't know much about the maintenance schedule. They had uniforms for Heero and Relena too, should Heero's ploy happen to actually work…whatever it was he intended to do.

"He must have found her by now," Wufei growled. "We should move. The guests are going to get nervous if this delay lasts much longer."

"Delays are normal for an event as big as this," Trowa said. "They'll wait."

"Did she refuse him, do you think?" Wufei muttered.

"Even if she did, Heero doesn't easily take no for an answer," Duo assured him. "Not if he really believes in what he's doing."

"Can't he just truss her up and throw her over his shoulder?" Wufei asked, arching an eyebrow.

Duo chuckled at the image. Threading his fingers behind his head, he leaned his back against the wall. "You guys need to relax. Think about who we're dealing with. Heero can be forceful when he has a mind, but Relena won't be pushed around. They're probably talking things out. You've gotta leave them a little room for confession." He smiled. "After all, we're in a church."

"Don't be ridiculous," Wufei scowled. "Heero understands the importance of time here."

"Does he?" Duo muttered, glancing sidelong at Trowa, who grunted.

From what Duo knew of Heero, they might be left waiting awhile. Heero's priorities could be quite bizarre. He was unfailingly reliable, but he had demonstrated unpredictability in times before now.

Of course, this was love, not war, but the rules weren't far different. Heero was often ambiguous, especially when undecided, but once decided, he was thorough and methodical and didn't take prisoners.

But Relena…she was as straight-forward as an arrow, but she was also as impulsive as hell. Her political reserve didn't fool Duo; he'd _seen_ her leap in front of gunfire without a thought. In many ways, she was worse than Heero. Heero could _seem_ impulsive at times, usually at the worst moments, but was actually insanely deliberate.

Insanely.

Duo couldn't help but think that Heero had the upper hand here. How long has Heero been "deliberating" on Relena? At least ten years. And it seemed he had finally made up his mind. He was making marrying Relena his mission, and well… Duo didn't think he would give up short of a bullet in the heart. So what was taking so long?

Trowa seemed to be considering this as well. He looked pensive. "I think we should check on them."

* * *

Relena was being watched closely. The burliest of the three guards walked at an unhurried pace just behind her left shoulder, his eyes on her, but his hands off. Although Relena was not physically restrained, she knew that if she attempted to make a break for it in any direction, she would find herself face down on the floor with the hand the size of a ham pressed against the back of her neck…or a bullet in her back. Her wedding dress wasn't the easiest or most inconspicuous thing to run in either.

But she wasn't really thinking about escape. Heero had said he would handle this and she trusted him to do just that, more or less, but she was worried about Alex, and Candace Mae, and her baby, which that mouthy redhead leading their party claimed to have in custody, though Relena had yet to see evidence of it.

They made a grim procession, pacing down deserted corridors that led deep into the church. They took so many turns, Relena quickly became lost, but she didn't worry about that either.

A few paces ahead of her, Alex and Candace Mae were being guided by another of the armed men. Alex's wound had been dressed so he could walk, but he looked a little green in the face, and his footsteps were unbalanced. Relena supposed it was a good sign that these people hadn't just decided to kill him. That gave her some hope. Or at least some time. Time was important. Alex must be in pain and she worried what their captors would do if he fainted or proved unable to continue. Relena wanted him clear of danger more than anyone. He had nothing to do with any of this.

Fortunately, Candace Mae walked on Alex's other side, close enough to catch him if he fell. Relena's elderly house manager looked haggard, but though her lips were drained of color, there was a steely look in her eye as she shuffled along. Relena wasn't surprised. Candace Mae was spry for an old woman, in mind as well as body.

Relena didn't look at Heero at all.

But she could feel him there, walking just to her right, under the watch of the third guard.

She wondered what he was thinking.

As she pondered, he spoke quietly, as if he could read her thoughts. "This doesn't change anything," he said. "I'm going to marry you when this is over."

"_Heero_!" she hissed before she could stop herself.

She wasn't sure what made her more incredulous: that Heero would risk speaking to her in this situation or that he would say… that.

She risked a glance in his direction. His eyes hadn't changed a hair since he had made his confessions in the dressing room. He just looked at her, not saying anything, but that look conveyed volumes. Not wanting to draw attention to either of them, she wrenched her eyes away from his face. She walked as she had been bidden, staring straight forward, but she could feel Heero's eyes on her. She thought she could even feel him smile a little.

Smile! Under gunpoint. That was very Heero.

She didn't know what to do about him. Suppose they did get out of this and Heero insisted again that they marry. What was she to say? She had broken it off with Alex, but she had told Heero she couldn't marry him either and she really meant it. Their history was precious to her, but Heero's ambiguity and noncommittal vows of love had hurt her deeply. There was also her image to consider. It wasn't that she cared what people thought of her, not really, but she did care if it had an effect on the work she was trying to do. Dropping Alex on her wedding day was bad enough. It would be better if the public never knew anything about Heero.

She didn't know what to _do_ about him, though.

She knew she loved him. There was no question of that. His quiet, his strength, his depth—she cherished him greatly and always would. If the world knew the depth of her feelings, though, they wouldn't understand. She and Heero didn't _seem_ like they should belong together. They didn't seem like they should even be in the same room together.

But Relena felt so _comfortable_ with him. Perhaps it was because Heero understood her. It made her crazy how well he understood her.

Too crazy.

What was she supposed to say if he asked to marry her? How could it ever work between them? Heero has told her himself it never could work. He had said so many times that she had lost count. He didn't know anything except the battle. He was just a soldier. He didn't have a place in her world.

Maybe she should have retired her feelings long ago, but she hasn't been able to turn her heart against him. And yet, whenever Relena had moved toward him, he retreated, sometimes literally running away.

She couldn't remember now why in God's name she had thought a physical relationship with Heero would be a good idea. At the time, she had just wanted him near. She was afraid to lose him. She had thought of it as a compromise. She had thought she could control her emotions and accept that their greater realities must be separate, but in the end, she couldn't pretend she didn't want more, even if it seemed impossible.

And seeing that, he had left her.

Sure, there had been a plane crash and terrorists and a baby, but those were all excuses. He left her because she wanted him to stay, and he knew he never would.

So why was he back? He had told her to move on and she had. She had forged a future without him. She met Alex and got what she had wanted from Heero—someone who would commit to and love her. And she had been happy. Well maybe not happy, but it was what she thought she had wanted. Only now Heero was _back_, saying he was "ready" now.

But wouldn't it be _just_ like Heero to say such things as "I love you" and "marry me" and "you're what I want" and then _do_ the opposite?

Hadn't he broken promises to her before?

It was strange. She was more terrified of Heero leaving her than she was of being shot and killed by terrorists.

So she snuck a second glance at him. He was still watching her.

"You don't believe me," he said. It sounded accusatory, like she had thrown a rock at his face.

"I believe _in_ you," she said in a hushed whisper. "I always have. I just... Do you know how you sound? Why did you wait until I was getting _married_? "

"It has nothing to do with you getting married," he said, much to her surprise. He glanced at their guards as he spoke, but almost lazily. His eyes returned to her. Did he not even _care_ that they might all be shot? Apparently not as much as he wanted to say what he had risked capture to say. "Your marriage just made my decision imminent."

"I don't understand. Since the first day we met, you have always run away from me."

"You scare me," he said.

She almost laughed in his face. Imagining Heero Yuy scared was like imagining… She couldn't even think of anything so ridiculous.

But laughter died on her tongue. He was serious. She could see in his face that he was serious.

She spoke more contritely, smoothing her face of all traces of amusement. "How do I scare you, Heero?"

She couldn't believe they were talking about this right now. The guards ignored them, either because they didn't fear retaliation or because they had orders not to touch them. Relena knew she should be quiet anyway, but this ill-timed conversation with Heero seemed like the most urgent matter of the moment, perhaps of her life, which made no sense at all.

His eyes were locked on her face. "Being around you makes me happy."

Her heart thumped in her chest.

She thought it was a preamble to whatever he was going to say scared him, but he said nothing more. He just looked at her, as if waiting her response.

"I don't understand," she said at last.

He didn't answer.

"Wait," she said. "Are you saying that _happiness_ scares you?"

"Yes."

"You don't _want_ to be happy?"

"I don't know," he said. "I've never been happy."

That brought her up short.

"Heero…"

She wanted to touch him. It was impossible given the circumstances, so she settled for conveying as much softness as she could in her expression.

He looked deep into her eyes, as if by doing so he could drown in them. "I've wasted a lot of time, Relena. I didn't want things to change. _I_ didn't want to change. I understand my life the way it is now. I don't know if I will understand my life with you. Being with you will change me. It will change everything."

Her heart beat faster. "I don't want to change you," she said. "Heero, if you think I'm not satisfied with who you are, you've got it wrong. I lov—"

"That's not what I'm saying," he said quickly. "I know you love me. You've put up with a lot from me, so I can't deny that that is true."

"Then what…?"

"There is a saying that some men prefer to live in the misery they are used to than chance happiness they don't know. I think I am a man like that."

Relena didn't say anything. Heero strove for perfection, but she didn't know if that was the same as happiness. She didn't even know if it was in the same arena as happiness.

"Being with you will change me," Heero repeated. "You don't have to want or do anything. If I'm with you, I will change. I will change because I will need to be a better man for you. If you think I was intense as your protector, then you don't understand fully what committing to you means to me. I will protect you in a way I haven't before, and our family..." He paused. "But you see, I don't know anything about that. I would have to learn. I am scared that I will fail."

Relena bit her lip. "But you're not scared anymore?" she asked.

"I'm still scared," Heero answered.

Relena didn't know what to say. The lump in her throat kept her from speaking.

"But I'm more frightened of losing you," he added. "The thought of not seeing you, of not being close to you ever again... I underestimated my feelings for you. My fear of failure is nothing beside it. Relena, I will be deathly afraid every day of my life if it means being with you."

Relena wanted to cry. She wasn't sure why. Was it happiness? Sadness? Her whole body was shaking with it, whatever it was. But somehow, she held her emotions in check.

"You are ridiculous." It was all she could think to say.

"I know. I don't know if I'll be any good for you," he continued. "That scares me more than anything. I'll probably make a lot of mistakes. I don't know if I can make you happy. But, Relena, I want to love and protect you with everything I have. If you—"

"Stop," she said, overcome with emotion. "I understand."

He seemed to relax, as if she had poured cool water over his head. The tension she had seen in him really _didn't_ have anything to do with their captors. What was he planning to _do_ about them? Relena could hardly focus.

"You asked 'why now'?" Heero said. "You should know that I've been thinking about it for a long time, but I was comfortable _just_ thinking. I don't know why it happened, but I suddenly realized I had chosen against the one thing I had ever really wanted for myself. That you were about to get married was coincidence. The others seemed surprised."

Relena blinked. She was so surprised she forgot to lower her voice. "The others-?"

The redhead at the front of the group spun on her heel, fiery locks flying in all directions, her eyes burning. "Silence!" she barked.

Heero head turned toward her. His hard blue eyes doused her rage with one look.

Relena held her breath. It was rare to see so much raw feeling in Heero's face. He seemed to view the leader of their captors with annoyance rather than as a threat, which sent butterflies careening in Relena's stomach. If Heero upset this woman's sensibilities, she may kill him without thinking. And if Heero died now…. She couldn't even contemplate the thought.

But she understood him exactly. These people, these ignorant fools with their lack of understanding, were the reason for so much of Heero's suffering—so much of the world's suffering.

Relena certainly understood. It was her life mission to educate people on what war really was so that they might choose against it. But Heero's contempt was more invasive than Relena's appeal to reason. Relena was a politician. Heero was a soldier. When Heero displayed contempt for other soldiers, it meant something … something very profound.

The redhead picked up on Heero's condescension. Relena tensed. She shot Heero a warning glance as the woman pulled herself up straight, settling her shoulders and lifting her chin. "I will not have you hatching plans together," she said.

"I've already agreed to your demands," Heero replied, his tone even but his eyes hard. "Take me where you want to take me. I won't fight you."

The redhead frowned. "I wouldn't have expected you to give up so easily," she said. "Our reports of you gundam pilots indicate that you are… tenacious." She smirked. "I would know. My training was modeled after yours. As the pilot of Gundam 01, you are a great idol of mine, Heero Yuy. You saved the earth. You are a hero. A shame we had to meet under such circumstances."

Alex's expression caught Relena's eye. He looked like he had been socked in the stomach. He stared at Heero slack-jawed, as if trying to comprehend what he had just heard. Candace Mae looked straight ahead. Relena held her breath. Well, that was out of the bag.

She didn't waste time worrying about Alex's reactions. Her first priority had to be to do what she could to diffuse the threat of this situation. Did Heero mean the other gundam pilots when he said 'the others'? She wondered if they were nearby. Perhaps a counterstrike mission was underway and that was why Heero was so composed. She tried to ask this with her eyes, but Heero only shook his head. Relena wasn't sure what that meant.

The redhead seemed disconcerted by Heero's agreeableness. Relena didn't blame her. Heero's attitude would have unnerved her immensely if she were in the other woman's shoes.

But the redhead didn't say anything about it. She merely pivoted on the ball of her foot and led the way down a side corridor.

Heero turned his eyes on Relena. He didn't have to say anything. She could read every thought in his head clearly in his eyes.

_Whatever happens, I love you._

The enormity of it overwhelmed her. Relena's heart swelled to the point of pain. Dare she believe? Did he really _mean_ to love her? If so… If he really did…

She couldn't explain why, but she felt suddenly invincible.

They walked in silence.

The hallway ended at a door.

"Is this it?" Relena demanded. This door did not seem to lead anywhere. "Is my baby in that room?"

Heero glanced at her sideways, as if to say 'good question'.

"He is," the redhead replied. There was a smug look on her face as she looked Relena's wedding dress up and down. "Our apologies, Miss Darilan. I know this must be hard for you. It wasn't our intent to ruin your day of bliss."

Relena didn't attempt to hide her annoyance. Bliss wasn't something she expected or needed. She wasn't even sure it was something she wanted. Her desire was for peace, and true peace required wisdom—the kind that came from understanding the wrongs in the world. Bliss? Not likely.

"What is it that you want with Heero?" she asked.

The woman didn't answer.

"They want data," Heero told her, "on the Zero System."

The redhead pursed her lips.

Alex glanced again at Heero. He seemed to be in severe physical pain. He grimaced, one arm wrapped around his side for stability.

"Only a handful of people have personal experience with it," Heero explained. "I'm one of them."

Relena didn't have any personal experience with the Zero System, but she knew it was a military system.

"You're building weapons," she surmised, directing obliquely cool tones toward the redhead. "Why?"

The redhead didn't respond. Instead she opened the door.

The room was dusty, but not empty. Another guard waited within, a gun in hand, standing beside the bassinet where Relena's baby lay sleeping, completely oblivious to the threat on both his life and the lives of his parents. There was also a desk against the wall, upon which lay a laptop computer and a heavy black suitcase. The suitcase was locked. It looked heavy, possibly bullet proof.

Relena supposed there were many old, unused rooms in a building such as this; the church had many sprawling wings and winding corridors. She wondered if anyone would hear a gunshot this far away from the more populated areas in the building. She highly doubted that there was a security system in place for rooms so far away from anything important.

The redhead entered the room first. She said something to the guard in a low voice. The guard moved to sit in front of the laptop. He entered a password to bypass the locked screen and brought up a program. It was unfamiliar to Relena, but she heard Heero grunt beside her.

The redhead turned at the sound. "Problem, Mr. Yuy?"

"You want to run the test here." He didn't sound surprised. Or not surprised. That was the annoying thing about Heero. Though he felt very deeply, it was difficult to assign a clear emotion to his actions and reactions. He was too good at controlling himself.

The redhead waved her gun. The guard vacated the chair. "Just have a seat, Mr. Yuy," she said to him. "Cooperate, and this should not take long."

"And what are you going to do with us after you have the data you need?" Relena demanded.

"If Mr. Yuy behaves and you stay quiet, you might survive," the redhead replied.

"And if not?" Relena asked.

The redhead's face was hard.

Relena didn't really need a response. She understood the situation well enough. She and Alex and Candace Mae and her baby were all hostages. If Heero refused, for anything, they would be picked off one by one, starting with the least important. The question was whether these people would be capable of killing them in cold blood _after_ they had what they wanted, or if they would find other means of ensuring a safe escape. Relena had trouble believing they would let Heero live, or herself for that matter.

Without a word, Heero sat in front of the laptop. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, but the redhead did not lower her gun. Relena did react when she felt cold steel press against her temple from the hand of the guard who had followed closely behind her this whole time. She didn't move or cry out. The threat was expected. Alex and Candace Mae were held at gunpoint as well. The man who had started the program on the laptop knelt to open the suitcase.

Relena watched curiously.

It wasn't really a suitcase. The lid was flung back to reveal black boxes and wires and some removable pieces made of metal and plastic and more wires. The guard removed the largest piece—a circular contraption like a ring with a dome-and placed it on Heero's head like it was a hat. Wires dangled down from it like antennae. Some of these were attached to various places on Heero's skin under his shirt and some were fed back to the suitcase, much like an EKG. Relena surmised that the machine was meant to capture the minute response of Heero's pulse and muscle movements in response to whatever he was supposed to do on the laptop.

"It's been awhile since I've used this system," Heero said, his fingers hovering over the keys, but not typing. "Last time I was in this situation, it didn't go according to plan. Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

"We are aware of the Zero System's flaws as well as its capabilities, yes," the redhead replied. "That is why we are running a simulation rather than letting you anywhere near the real thing. This way, we can control the situation should things get out of hand." She cocked the barrel of her gun. "Do you object?"

Heero's eyes flickered from the gun to the computer screen. "No."

"The simulation will begin with the shortcut command CTRL 01," The redhead informed Heero. "We thought that would be easiest for you to remember." She smirked. "You may begin."

Heero punched in the sequence. The screen flashed green.

There were a few moments of silence before Heero's fingers began to move on the 10-key.

Relena didn't care about the Zero System. Instead, she watched the redhead watching Heero. She seemed fascinated by him, as if he were a figure out of a legend. All the other guards in the room watched the red head. She was clearly the leader of the party, and a respected one at that.

Relena decided to gamble.

"What's the goal of all of this?" she asked. "Why do you want this kind of data?"

The guard standing behind Relena grunted disapproval at her inquiry. Relena heard the click of the barrel rotating in the revolver. She didn't move.

The redhead held up her free hand, the one not holding a gun to the back of Heero's head, her eyes on the guard. "It's okay, Jeremiah. They're only trying to stall."

Jeremiah said nothing.

The redhead smiled at Relena. "Progress," she answered. "It should come as no surprise to you that we do not agree with your ideals, Relena Peacecraft. Our organization does not oppose war. We believe that war is not only inevitable, but essential to progression, and that to denounce it is not only foolhardy, but disgraceful. Soldiers represent the best of what humanity can be. Courage. Honor. Sacrifice. To ridicule and obscure the value of war is a disservice to those who sacrifice their lives to improve the state of mankind. Soldiers should be venerated."

"I see," Relena replied. "You are saying that opposition to war is insulting to those who fight?"

"Correct."

Relena nodded. "To an end, I agree with you."

The redhead blinked. "That is an extremely hypocritical position, Miss Relena. I must believe you are saying so only because you are under duress."

"Not at all," Relena replied. "You speak of courage, honor, and sacrifice as representing the best of what mankind has to offer, I agree. Those who fight should be honored. However, I do not believe that war itself should be venerated. Soldiers fight wars, but war itself is nothing to praise—it is hate and greed, destruction and death. Even when it is fought for freedom or peace, war is suffering."

"No. That is merely the price of war," the redhead snapped. "Some things are worth it. And when you fight for what you believe in, sometimes you have to kill. It may be grisly, but it is reality."

"That may be reality, but the state of war is—and should always be—considered regrettable."

"Because it is violent?" the redhead smirked. "Only the cowardly are afraid of violence."

"I think people choose violence because it is fast, not because it is the best or most honorable solution. Even when it is needed, violence without justice is merely brutality."

This statement seemed to enrage the woman. Her eyes burned. "You would propose communication as an alternative, I suppose, or the reformation of law?" She scoffed. "Politicians and bureaucrats and corporate lobbyists scurrying for favors? What a self serving and useless process!"

"There is always conflict when opposing interests collide, but the efforts made toward a nonviolent solution—even when that effort is wasted-is not worthless," Relena said. "Every step we make toward understanding one another is a victory."

The redhead gritted her teeth.

Relena continued. "I can't help but wonder. Why is it that so many are willing to _die_ with courage but so few willing to live courageously? Why _can't_ we talk about what we want instead of hurting each other—or ourselves—to get what we need?"

"Don't try to equate talking with fighting!" the redhead spat. "You do soldiers a disservice!"

"I apologize," Relena said. "It is not my intention to insult you. I already conceded your point that soldiers should be honored. In war, people are pushed to extraordinarily brave and noble acts. However, people can also be pushed to intensely despicable action, which I regret to say is more often the case."

The redhead's arm shook. "How can you stand her?" she shouted at Heero. "How can you stand to have a liaison with such an impudent, sheltered, and self-righteous windbag?"

Heero answered without taking his eyes off the screen. His fingers flew across the keys, eyes unblinking. "Relena and I agree on some points and disagree on others. One thing we agree on is that war is not like a game. Yet in spite of that, soldiers are maneuvered like chess pieces, to destroy and be destroyed without sentiment."

"Which is wasteful," Relena said, "no matter how it is decorated by, I must confess, politicians like myself. Bravery is heralded while atrocities are ignored, but both exist on the battlefield."

"Yes," the redhead snapped. "That is it exactly! War shows us the best—and worst—of human nature. That is why it is so important!"

"But the extremes of humanity exist in everyday life too."

By her expression, the redhead couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Are you saying we don't need war because the sort of courage seen in battle—the kind of courage it takes to complete a mission under gunfire—exists in _civilian_ life?"

"Yes," Relena said.

Heero grunted. "Are _you_ trying to say that _killing_ makes a person courageous?"

"No," the redhead said. "Facing death is courageous."

"But every fool dies," Heero said. "That doesn't mean we are all brave." He flicked his eyes to Relena. "What makes a courageous action worthwhile is what you protect when you take the risk."

Relena's breath stuck in her throat. Heero was looking at her with those eyes again. Courage. Heero was not afraid of death. He never had been. But to promise forever to a woman who made him happy? That frightened him.

The redhead looked completely flabbergasted that Heero would take Relena's side. "Fine!" she said. "Say what you will! But your training has made you into an extraordinary human being, Heero Yuy. You know it is true. What you have experienced on the battlefield will never leave you. You, Heero Yuy, will _never_ be ordinary! Never!"

Heero turned back to the screen. "I merely do what has to be done."

"Yes. That's right." the redhead said. "You do your duty. You follow orders. That is the way of the soldier."

Heero didn't answer her.

She seemed to find his silence a betrayal. "To think that I wanted to be just like you!"

"That's unfortunate," Heero replied. He didn't even look at her. "Since there is no need for people like me."

The redhead's face paled.

Relena remained silent. This woman obviously felt very convicted in what she was doing if she was willing to risk the lives of innocent people, including an old woman and a baby, to accomplish it, and seemed frustrated that Heero in particular didn't praise her for it. She seemed to believe that she was doing right merely by following orders. And now Heero, a man she admired for his military obedience, had just criticized her for that which he himself had been most often praised.

Heero took his hands off the keyboard. He turned to face their captor, hands in his lap, blue eyes bright and piercing.

"You do realize you're alone, right?" Heero said. "The rest of your outfit isn't here. You can do whatever you want."

"I would never betray my commander."

"Even if your commander is an idiot? I'm sure you were told to watch this event on the off chance that I might appear here, given whatever intelligence you have on my association with Relena, which is probably outdated. You're lucky I showed up today."

"We didn't think you'd show," she admitted. "But since you have, it is my duty—and my honor—to procure the necessary data. I would never run. I'm really surprised at you, Heero Yuy. I didn't think you were a deserter. I thought you never questioned orders. During the war, you were… you were perfect!"

"That's a common misconception," Heero replied. "I went my own way quite a lot."

The woman's eyes widened. "That can't be true."

"Is that what you are doing?" Relena asked her. "Just following orders? Because you are supposed to? Do you take no responsibility at all for the outcome of your actions?"

The woman's eyes flickered to her.

"May I ask your name?" Relena asked.

"My name is Anne," she said. "Don't think I don't know what you are doing! I am not brainwashed. I am doing this of my own free will."

"I wasn't implying that you are brainwashed," Relena said.

Anne shook her gun at Heero. "Continue!"

Heero didn't do anything.

"Complete the sequence!" Anne shouted, "Or we start killing hostages, starting with Miss Relena!"

Heero did not budge. "Your mission won't succeed," he said. "It won't work out like you think."

"Of course it will work!" Anne snapped. "We have been very thorough. The blueprints are perfect. The birds are already operational. We just need the sequences."

Birds?

So they were making planes. Some kind of military plane that could be remotely controlled using this system perhaps? Relena saw all kind of potential disaster in that.

"That wasn't what I meant," Heero said. "I mean the larger picture. To think only of the completion of the mission is shortsighted. What happens after? Let's say your plans go flawlessly and you succeed in all you hope to accomplish. Your goal is to use this system to kill people. Leaders in power? People you want revenge on? People you hate?"

"Yes," Anne said. "Some people deserve to die."

"Then what?"

"There will be a revolution," she murmured. "The right people will come to power."

"I'll pretend for your sake that there is such a thing as 'the right people.' Let's assume there's a revolution and these 'right people' come to power. Then what?"

Anne looked baffled. "Well, that's it! The right people will be in power. Things will change."

"What things?"

"Justice," she said. "There will be justice for the people whose families were killed, and whose lives were ruined by the decisions of a bloated, idealistic, and impotent government, a government run by privileged people, politicians and princesses like Miss Relena here, people who tried to change things by law but only managed to dissolve customs and countries under the guise of peace."

Heero didn't bat an eyelash. "Okay, let's assume that your 'right people' –people who aren't privileged?—" He raised a questioning eyebrow.

Anne didn't respond.

"Well, whoever they are, let's say they kill everyone that you think should be killed. Everyone pays whatever you think they owe. Then what?"

"I don't understand what you mean."

There was a moment of silence.

"When does it stop?" Relena interjected. "Surely the friends and relatives of the people you kill will not think that your leaders are the right people at all."

"That's just speculation," Anne said. "My job is to carry out the orders I was given."

"For these 'right people,'" Heero repeated.

"Yes."

"What if they're dead?"

Anne's eyes widened. "Pardon?"

Heero's voice didn't change at all. "What if the 'right people' are dead'?"

"They aren't dead," Anne answered. She licked her lips nervously. The other guards exchanged glances.

Heero closed out of the simulation program.

Anne raised the gun. "What are you doing? It's-!"

"It's over," Heero said. His eyes were steely blue, boring holes in Anne's skull.

"The simulation? You completed it that fast?"

"Yes."

"That's impossible! Our best trained took—"

"It's complete," Heero repeated. "Check it if you want. Your mission is accomplished. You've got the data. You can stop."

Anne looked bewildered.

"Not that it matters."

"What do you mean?"

Heero stared her right in the eye. "There was a strike on your home base this morning. Your leaders have been in Preventor custody for hours, assuming they survived. The data simulation I just completed was received by Lucrezia Noin of the Preventors unit."

Relena felt her insides jump. Was that true?

"That's preposterous!" Anne said. "We checked in not…"

She trailed off, licking her lips, as if just realizing it had been quite some time since she had checked in. Relena felt the guard beside her tense up. The one watching Alex and Candace Mae sent frowning glances in Anne's direction. Then he started eyeing the doors. Was he going to bolt?

Heero slid out of the chair. His eyes never left Anne's face. "See for yourself."

Nobody moved.

Relena felt the breath trapped in her body.

Slowly, Anne approached the computer desk. She glanced at the summary report from Heero's simulation using and spoke in an awed voice. "Your scores are perfect," she mumbled.

"There's no such thing as perfection," Heero said, "especially in battle, and even if there was, there isn't much use for it."

"Which isn't the same," Relena interrupted, "as there not being a use for _you_."

Heero grunted.

The guard behind Relena, Jeremiah, lowered his gun. With his other hand he put a cell phone to his ear. "I'm calling base," he announced.

Anne didn't say anything. She was still staring at the computer screen.

No one seemed to be answering Jeremiah's phone.

"Try another number," the guard beside Alex said. "Try Donohue."

Anne sank slowly into the chair Heero had just occupied. "I don't understand."

"You did everything right," Heero told her. "Your execution was well timed. You had the right number of people in the right places. You kept to your mission objective in spite of obstacles. You managed to capture me and you got the data. You did everything that was asked of you. It was a perfect mission. You're a good soldier. It just happens to be useless. Because things have changed around you. This is what happens. War is madness."

Anne shook her head.

"Anne," Jeremiah said gruffly. "He is bluffing. They are just trying to scare us out of here."

Anne lifted her head and shook herself. "Right. Of course."

Relena shot a look at Heero. Could they afford to let these people escape? What would that mean for the world? Even if the terrorist leaders had been brought down the way Heero claimed, there were always new threats. Anne was probably thinking the same thing about them. Heero wore a grim expression.

"We should kill them," Jeremiah said. "Anne—"

"Killing us won't achieve anything," Relena said. "It isn't necessary."

Jeremiah ignored her. "We can't leave them alive," he said. "They're the only ones who know our faces."

Heero growled. "If you kill the Vice Foreign Minister on her wedding day, the world will not rest until you are dead. "

"Don't listen to him, Anne," Jeremiah said. "There is a love affair between these two. We can use that. Their deaths can be explained. Testing will confirm it. From what I've been able to gather, the baby is not Alexander Calhoun's."

Relena felt her stomach drop. She shot Heero an accusatory look. He really should not have made all those confessions on the way here! Heero didn't do or say anything. He didn't even have the grace to look chagrined. Unarmed and held under gunpoint, he still seemed largely unconcerned about the scene taking place around him.

"So you're going to kill everyone?" Relena demanded. "Even a baby?"

This seemed to jolt Anne out of her silence. "No," she said. "We won't kill a baby." Jeremiah opened his mouth to object, but she rolled right over him. Strength seemed to come back into her. She rose to her feet. "We'll take the baby with us," she said. "He can't be a witness. He won't remember any of this. And a baby will make a better hostage than any of these others, even the Vice Minister. We might need him to get out of here."

Panic momentarily robbed Relena of reason. "You can't do that!"

Without thinking, she moved toward the bassinet where her infant lay asleep, swaddled in blankets, his tiny face the only part of his body that was exposed to the air. She moved, but was stopped by Jeremiah, whose hand wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her back with such a wrench that pain tore through her arm. She pulled up short with an involuntary cry.

Heero's eyes glittered dangerously, but he didn't move.

Relena watched as Anne crossed the room and picked up the bassinet. She turned to Jeremiah and the other three guards. "We'll take the baby with us." Excitement at a new possibility, a new future, a renewed purpose, lit up her eyes. "We'll raise him as one of us!"

"You won't," Relena said, struggling in the grip of her captor. "I won't allow it!"

"Quiet the Vice Minister," Anne ordered. "Let's do this quickly."

Jeremiah clapped a hand over Relena's mouth. Relena writhed, trying to jerk free, but only succeeded in hurting her own shoulder. She glared at Anne over her captor's thumb.

No way. Not her child.

Anne looked right through her. The light in her eye took on a manic, almost feverish, brightness. "We'll make him one of our leaders, Miss Darilan," she said. "Yours and Heero Yuy's son! Just think of it. We'll train him to be a true soldier. And we'll turn him against you and your pitiful ideals. Someday, when he's ready, we'll send him to fight against people like you. We'll send him with an army at his back and pride in his heart, the pride of a soldier who didn't give up!"

Relena was about to bite the hand of her guard. She had a scathing retort ready—about how she would never, never, not for as long as she lived, allow the world to revert to such a state—but before she could speak, a single gunshot sounded in the hallway outside the door.

Everyone jumped.

"Preventors?" Jeremiah demanded.

"Kill Miss Relena," Anne ordered. "Quickly! It will delay them!"

But Jeremiah didn't move.

Relena wondered if he was having second thoughts now that the task of killing had fallen to him personally. She had seen that before. He might support Relena "being killed" but to kill her himself was another matter.

"Do it!" Anne shouted. "Her death will be reported as a scandal. The headlines will say that she was killed at the hands of a lover on the day of her wedding to another man. It will make a gruesome spectacle the world over. It will be written about as a testament to the hypocrisy you lived. "

Relena wasn't horrified. The scandal part was going to happen anyway. She understood that better than Anne. She didn't care. She had no time to be embarrassed.

Jeremiah still didn't pull the trigger.

Anne's eyes were wild. "Fine! I will do it! Get back against the wall, Miss Relena." Anne hoisted the handle of the baby's bassinet over her shoulder and waved her gun in the opposite hand. "Now!"

Relena understood what she had to do. It was now or never. Everyone was looking at her. Everyone was waiting for her. _Everyone_ was looking at her. And only her.

Calm wrapped around her like a cloak.

"Are you just going to shoot us like dogs?" she demanded.

"Can't you keep your goddamn mouth shut?" Jeremiah shouted.

Light exploded in front of Relena's eyes. It took her a moment to realize that Jeremiah had slammed the handle of the gun against her right temple. The world spun, colors blurring. She found herself blinking at the floor, which was right beneath her cheek. When had she fallen? She didn't remember dropping. Her head throbbed.

But it had worked.

Around her there was a flurry of movement and shouting. Relena's vision cleared slowly. She hadn't seen Heero move, but he was no longer where he had been standing. He was right next to her, eyes blazing. It must have taken only a few seconds for her head to hit the floor, but in that time period Heero now stood over Jeremiah, who was a crumpled mess behind Relena, blood streaming down chin from a broken nose. He appeared to be unconscious. Heero knelt to lift Jeremiah's gun out of his hand, who released it with limp fingers.

Relena eyes darted around the rest of the room. The guard who had been standing with the suitcase also lay face down on the ground. Heero must have taken him down as well, though Relena did not see how that was possible in the five seconds that had passed since she shouted and toppled. Even more amazingly, Candace Mae held a gun in her hand, which she now held against the temple of the third guard, her face as hard as a rock.

Alex had lost his balance. His body was slumped against the wall, his strength seeming to have run out.

Anne was the only remaining captor standing. Her eyes swung between Heero and Candace Mae, both who held guns. She eyed the suitcase as well, containing all the precious data she had fought to retrieve. But it was clear she had no chance. She held the bassinet in front of her, backed through the door, and ran for it.

"Heero!" Relena shouted, pushing herself off the ground. "The baby!"

But Heero was already out the door and after Anne.

Relena struggled the rest of the way to her feet, tripping over the hem of her wedding dress, hand held against her head to quell the dizziness from the blow she had taken to the head.

"Alex," she gasped. "Candace Mae, is he-?"

"He's all right," Candace Mae said. "I think he fell on purpose. Alex?"

Alex's face was gray. He didn't speak, but he nodded.

The last remaining guard rolled his eyes at Candace Mae. "You gonna shoot me, you daft old bat?"

"Don't think I won't," the old woman replied. "I've handled one of these before." She cocked the barrel and took aim with both hands, arms steady and eyes focused through the sights. "Long ago."

The guard subsided into silence.

Relena ran for the door. "Heero!"

"Relena, stay here!" Alex gasped at her. "Are you insane? Let him handle it!"

Relena didn't bother to reply. Her baby was in the hands of a terrorist. And Heero might be killed—Heero who loved her, who risked his life for her, who finally, after ten years of running away, wanted to be with her.

She would be damned before he was shot!

From behind her, she heard Candace Mae bark at Alex. "Sit down."

Relena emerged into a hallway that was empty. She looked around her in a panic. Which way had they—?

A second gunshot sounded off from somewhere down the corridor, just around the corner.

The sound of her baby's cry pierced her ears.

Oh God.

She ran toward the gunfire, following the sound of her baby, her silk white shirts hoisted to her knees.

"Heero!" she shouted again. "Heero!"

She turned the corner and slammed into a pair of hands. "Whoa, princess. Slow down. Heero's fine. Your baby's fine. Everything's fine."

Relena blinked several times.

The man holding her wasn't a terrorist.

"Duo!" she exclaimed, recognizing the former gundam pilot who had been Heero's comrade during the war. Behind him she saw Trowa and Wufei. Wufei was holding Anne, who slumped in his grip, looking stunned and woozy.

And there was Heero, the bassinet in one hand, staring at the baby inside it the way Relena might eye a watermelon on a fruit stand. Her baby had stopped crying. He was staring at Heero with round, dark eyes, seemingly as fascinated by Heero's stare as Heero was by him.

Heero looked up at she approached. His gaze softened. "Are you all—?"

She was kissing him before he finished speaking.

* * *

Alex had never been shot before. He had never been close to death. His wound had been cleaned and dressed, and he had been given pain killers for the throbbing, but he could still feel it under the bandages—a hole in his body.

"You okay, buddy?"

The man who addressed him so familiarly was a stranger. All Alex knew was that his name was Duo. He wore his hair in a long braid and regarded him with bright, wide blue eyes. The guy seemed genuinely concerned about him.

They were standing side by side in the wings adjacent to the altar of the church, hidden from the crowd beyond. The sanctuary was filled with attendees and TV crews who had been waiting, patiently, to see a wedding. They were all talking, the combined murmurs like the hum of a great hive. It was plain that no one knew quite what was going on. The ceremony had been hanging in suspension for nearly an hour.

"I don't know," Alex answered.

He really didn't.

The man who called himself Duo just nodded sympathetically.

There were four of them in the wings—himself, Duo, and Heero and Relena. The priest, who was standing on the stage behind the pulpit, was the only person who could see them. He had watched as the four of them emerged into the wings from the stairwell, and opened his mouth to announce their arrival to the crowd, but shut it when Alex shook his head at him. Now he kept glancing at them, looking confused and anxious. Alex had seen his eyes widen at the sight of the tears in Relena's dress and the blood on Alex's shirt. It wouldn't be long before the crowd noticed that something was wrong.

Behind him and Duo, deeper in the shadows, Relena and Heero were still arguing. Alex could hear them clearly, though they spoke in fierce whispers. They were arguing about what to do next. They had been at it nonstop, ever since the two other men—the ones who had been wearing common worker uniforms like Duo-had left to escort Anne, Jeremiah, and the other terrorists out of the building and into custody. From the conversation Alex had pieced together that they—Heero included—were all some kind of black ops, and that at least some of them, perhaps all of them, were former Gundam Pilots.

Candace Mae had left with them, taking the baby with her. Alex had been offered a ride to a local hospital in a helicopter, but had declined it. The excuse he gave was that he would have to be here, in the church, to answer questions from reporters.

The argument began started when Relena refused to leave the church. After the terrorists were secured, everyone had urged her to go, even Alex, telling her to let her people handle the crowds, never mind the wedding, but ever professional, she had explained that she could not just run. She said it was an opportunity to remind the world that peace was precious…and she wanted to tell the world herself that she wasn't getting married.

She had given Alex back his ring, reiterating the apologies she had already made, explaining that it was her fault for betraying her heart, and that she should have been more careful with his. Alex hadn't reacted much. Too much had happened. He just watched as she then turned to Heero, telling him she was sorry too, that she loved him, that his love meant the world to her, but that she didn't know at this time what to make of it, or what is role was supposed to be in her life.

Heero interrupted her. He suggested—in tones that sounded completely devoid of emotion to Alex—that it would save a lot of unnecessary trouble if they just _went on_ with the wedding, except that he would step in to take the vows and be Relena's husband instead of Alex.

Relena nearly had an apoplexy.

Impossible. How would people react? They couldn't just _switch_ the groom! What about the state of her dress and the complete inappropriateness of Heero's clothes? Besides, she argued, her work came before everything. It mattered more than anything. Maybe she had lost sight of that. Maybe she wasn't the type of person who should ever get married—to anyone. And how was Heero supposed to manage his work being married to such a high profile public figure?

Heero didn't bat an eyelash. He replied to Relena with the same answer he had been giving since he first appeared: be that as it may, he was going to marry her, and that was the end of it. It might as well happen now.

Alex was flummoxed. He himself had ignored Relena's dedication to her job during their engagement. Their relationship had been based in its political appropriateness since the beginning, but part of him had also assumed that she would change when she was married. After today, he realized how foolish that was.

Back in that dusty room, when he had thought he was going to die, he had looked to Relena for assurance and found himself staring at a stranger.

He hadn't expected her to be hysterical, but the way she had stared down terrorists was the way normal people reacted to traffic jams. The whole time they were in that room with guns pointed at their heads she had talked, and acted, as if it were just an annoyance, nothing much, all the while passing meaningful looks to Heero. Then, unarmed and wearing a wedding dress, his bride-to-be had torn out of the room into a hallway rife with gunfire. She hadn't seemed even vaguely conscious of the danger. When she returned, safe and unharmed, she had looked…so happy. It wasn't until that moment that Alex realized he didn't understand her. Relena was a person he had never met.

Heero Yuy had entered just behind her, holding a gun in one hand and the bassinet in the other.

"You're a Gundam Pilot?" Alex had asked him. He had just wanted to confirm what he had heard. It explained a few things.

"I was," Heero replied.

"And the baby… You left Relena to protect them both?"

"My thinking was flawed."

"But now you want to marry her?"

"Yeah."

It was odd. Alex felt that he should be furious, but he didn't feel that upset. Perhaps he would be eventually, maybe tomorrow or the next day, after the events of the day sank in, but in that moment he didn't. Somehow, he had felt _relieved_.

_Did I not really _want_ to marry her?_ he wondered.

No. He did, or had, or else he wouldn't have proposed.

_Then what has happened to me? _he thought.

That was why he was sticking around. It wasn't that he wanted to talk to the reporters. He was sticking around to see what happened, in hopes that it would answer the question.

The priest was looking increasingly nervous.

Duo just shrugged.

Heero and Relena's argument was growing increasingly heated.

"Heero," Relena was saying in a firm, but seething whisper. "You are being ridiculous! If the truth of you and I comes out, the public may not forgive me for lying to them about you. And I will look like a ninny if I marry you. They won't understand and I need the support of the public to do my job. Don't you see? My work is more important than any happiness I could have with you."

"But you _do_ want to marry me," Heero said.

"I love you. I always will. But marry you right now? I can't. It's impossible."

Relena's expression was all stubbornness, and she had been reiterating the same objection all the way to the sanctuary, but Alex saw the truth of her feelings. She leaned in close to Heero when she talked and she looked him straight in the eye when she spoke. She wasn't the least bit afraid of him. Sometimes she half reached out to touch him, and then smoothed her clothes and fiddled with her hair instead. Her skin glowed.

She looked the very picture of a blushing bride.

Heero seemed to see this too. His eyes were determined. "I don't care if you can't forgive me," he told her. "I know I screwed up. But I also know that you want to be with me. Your work is the easiest part. If you marry me, I will keep you safe, and I will love and support you—and your work—for as long for as I live."

Relena gasped. "Heero, I would be lying if I said I didn't want that—didn't dream of this even—but you must see that it is impossible. What am I supposed to tell everyone?"

"Don't tell them anything."

"I have to—"

"I will tell them."

Relena's eyes popped wide open.

"You?" Relena demanded. "_You_ would speak to the crowd? With all those reporters in attendance? _You_?"

"If that's what it takes."

Relena shook her head. "I…I just can't believe you would do that, Heero."

"If I explain, it won't look like you are making excuses for me."

"You hate being in the public eye."

"If I marry you, I will be in the public eye." Heero's eyes reflected no fear. "Relena, answer me this. At this point, is the only thing standing between my proposal and your acceptance the opinion of a room full of strangers?"

She glanced aside, away from his face. "They aren't strangers. These are the people I serve. They are my friends and family… Yes. Their opinion matters to me."

"So if I get their approval, you will marry me?"

"Heero, this is crazy. This event is being broadcasted to the whole universe! They are expecting me to marry Alex! If you go in there and tell them you are marrying me instead-"

"Will you say yes?" he interrupted her. He took her hands in his when he said it, gripping them tight and stepping close to her. She looked at him and started to tremble. Her eyes turned to liquid. His were steel.

Relena didn't say she would. She also didn't say she wouldn't. Perhaps she didn't need to; maybe he saw an answer in her eyes. Or maybe Heero didn't care.

He dropped her hands and turned for the stage.

Alex watched as Heero left the security of the wings and approached the altar. As he was wearing the clothes of a worker, he looked like someone who had been sent to deliver a message.

The priest looked relieved to see someone emerge into view. The whole room quieted instantly.

When Heero first spoke, it was just to the priest. He murmured in tones too quiet for the rest of the room to hear. Alex saw the priest's jaw slacken, his relief immediately changing to panic. The man made a retort, and for a few moments, Heero and priest argued with their heads bent, the priest looking increasingly strangled while Heero looked as calm as a man could. The crowd looked on with palpable befuddlement.

At length, the priest nodded jerkily and turned to the podium. He coughed once, smiled weakly at the crowd, and spoke. "This gentleman has informed me that there's been a change of plans. Miss Relena Darilan isn't marrying Alexander Calhoun today."

The crowd responded with derisive murmurs.

"She's marrying this man instead."

Pandemonium.

Cameras flashed. Gesturing the priest aside, Heero took the podium.

"I will explain," Heero announced. He turned to the wings. "Relena?"

Relena passed Alex on his left. Her shoulders were set, her head held high. She moved like a ghost, almost drifting across the floor, staring at Heero with consternation, her eyes a rare, deep shade of blue. Slowly, she stepped into view of the crowd.

The cameras flashed again, flickers of white and silver. Relena's dress had been beautiful, but now it was tattered and stained with blood. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders and back. There was a smudge of dirt on her cheek. She wasn't wearing any shoes.

The crowd reacted with alarm.

Shouts of "what happened?" and "Miss Relena, are you okay?" and "Who is this man?" could be heard reverberating through the crowd.

Relena said nothing. She stood perfectly still, folding her hands. It was Heero who spoke.

"My name is Heero Yuy," Heero said into the microphone.

His voice was a soft tenor, but his tone was so intense it split the noise like cleaver.

The crowd hushed instantly.

Heero continued. "A long time ago, I was the pilot of the mobile suit known as Gundam 01. When I met Relena, I was fifteen. I was a soldier on a mission to destroy the military organization known as OZ. At the time, I didn't know I would fall in love."

It was difficult to describe the reaction of the crowd. The murmurs were hesitant and muted. Alex himself didn't know what he was feeling.

"My history with Relena is complicated," Heero continued. "Relena has told me that I was the reason behind her desire to change the world. You might say she was the reason I felt the world was worth fighting for. It was because of Relena that I came to value my own life as well as the lives of others. The details aren't important. What you need to understand is that Relena is a person who loves this world. She loves humanity more than anyone currently living in our times. She has dedicated her entire life to fostering safety and empathy and cooperation. She is someone I can never measure up to."

He paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle on the crowd.

"Relena's peace was threatened today. There is blood on her wedding dress because someone tried to take her life."

Gasps filled the hall.

"That threat has been averted," Heero continued, his voice cutting through the din. "You might say it existed in the first place because someone like me was near Relena. For a long time, I thought that was true, and for that reason, I thought I should not be too near. I have always protected her, but I kept my distance. That is why she was with Alex Calhoun, who has graciously consented to take questions after the proceedings. However, the baby is actually mine."

This last part was confessed almost off-handedly. It was hard to tell if the reaction from the crowd was more or less explosive than learning that Relena's life had been threatened. Heero didn't seem to notice and Relena had yet to say anything. She stood to Heero's left, her hands still folded, perfectly implacable. But she didn't need to speak. Her lack of refutation was confirmation.

Heero turned to look at her. He looked long and hard. His expression was unmistakable: it was love, certain and unrelenting. He turned back to the crowd. Cameras flashed again.

"Relena and I don't see eye-to-eye on many things," Heero said. "And we never will. Relena believes in a peaceful world—a world where war no longer exists. I believe that fighting will always be necessary."

He paused. The crowd listened in silence.

"I came to the wrong conclusion," Heero continued. "For many years, I believed that the conflict inherent in our contradictory positions meant that a lasting bond between us would not be possible, and worse, that my being around Relena would put her goals, and her life, in jeopardy. I did not think I could measure up to what she needed. That outlook was pessimistic. I have remembered since that this world that we live in is a paradoxical one. Relena and I represent peace and war, two sides of humanity, two halves of a problem, but also a solution. I must fight to protect Relena's ideal of peace, so that she can continue to believe that one day it will not be necessary for me to fight. That is the paradoxical truth."

The crowd seemed spellbound by this statement. It was as if no one breathed. Alex found himself trying to work through Heero's words, trying to understand them.

Heero turned again to look at Relena. This time, he addressed her directly. "I consider it my mission to enter into a new relationship with you—a wholly different relationship from anything we've had before. I will marry you, right now, if you will accept me. I will do this out of love for you, and to protect you, but also to protect your ideals, which are everything to you, and thus everything to me."

No one spoke.

For a wonder, it seemed Relena herself had forgotten how to form words. She stared at Heero, her cheeks flushed a rosy pink. She didn't say anything, but she nodded, looking visibly overwhelmed.

Murmurs filled the hall.

Alex was trying to think through the repercussions. What if someone objected on political or moral grounds? What if it there was a debate? An outcry? A riot?

But before more than a small swell of voices could build, the organ began to play the wedding march.

The familiar chords seemed to inspire immediate and ritualistic observance. Alex was amazed. Respectful quiet settled over the congregation. Whoever the player was, they seemed to believe that a wedding was supposed to happen, and everyone in the church who was bearing witness seemed to concede to the decision. And not just the church, Alex reminded himself. Everywhere, all over the world and beyond, people were watching.

Alex wanted to watch too.

Relena walked toward Heero, and all eyes turned to her. She held no bouquet, and she didn't move with the traditional steps. Her wedding dress was torn, her shoes missing, her hair mussed. Yet she walked with her head high, arms at her sides, as if she were a queen. Heero stepped out from behind the podium and crossed to meet her. Even in workman's clothes instead of a tuxedo he commanded attention. He didn't look nervous the way grooms were sometimes said to be. He looked steady. He looked…certain.

Their eyes met, and locked. The whole room fell deadly silent.

The priest took the podium. Although his expression reflected some remaining bewilderment, resuming the ritual seemed to steady his nerves.

"Dearly beloved…"

The wedding vows were quick and to the point, running though the most basic and traditional text without frills, yet Alex felt he had never heard anything so powerful or so pure. It occurred to him that he had never really thought about the words before, or taken in their full meaning. The way Heero stared at Relena as the priest spoke the words gave him chills.

"Do you, Heero Yuy, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife in marriage, to love, comfort, honor, and keep for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, being faithful only to her so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"And do you, Relena Darilan, take this man to be your lawfully wedded wife in marriage, to love, comfort, honor, and keep for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others, being faithful only to him so long as you both shall live?"

"I do."

"Then I pronounce you man and wife."

It was over in a blink. The priest spoke the final words cementing the union, but nobody heard them, because Heero leaned in to kiss Relena and the whole room exploded in a roar of noise. Reporters were dashing right up to the altar, cameras flashing in a blitz of light.

Heero pulled back from Relena, his eyelids lifting slowly, as if just released of a great weight. Relena's eyes shimmered with tears, but her face broke in a wide smile. Heero took her hand.

Alex came to awareness suddenly, as if emerging from a fog. In a moment, those two were going to buried by journalists.

"I'll stay here and answer questions," Alex said to Duo. "Get them out of here."

Duo looked startled. "Are you sure you're okay with that?"

"I'm not sure of anything," he confessed. "I never believed in true love, but I think…maybe I'd like to try it."

Heero and Relena were coming toward them, just steps in front of the reporters who were climbing up to the stage to swarm the altar. Alex reached out and grabbed Heero's sleeve as the man walked past him in the wings. Heero's gaze locked with his and seemed to communicate gratitude and respect and apology all in one look.

Alex met that gaze with one of his own. "Take care of her," he said. Someday, eventually, that was what he would care about. Perhaps there would come a day when he looked at a woman the way Heero looked at Relena, as if she was what made the entire world make sense.

Heero nodded once, and Alex knew it would be done.

With that, he let them go.

Alex walked out onto the stage with both hands in the air. The reporters stopped in their tracks, gaping at him. He knew he must look a sight. His shirt was covered in blood and his chest wrapped in bandages. Television journalists maneuvered their cameras and recorders to capture him. The questions came pouring.

He answered them.

* * *

"Heero," Relena gasped.

Her stomach was shaking. So were her hands. Her head was spinning.

All she wanted to do was sit down.

But Heero's fingers were around her wrist, and he kept moving, so she did too. To focus, she stared at a spot on Heero's back between his shoulder blades. Duo was following behind them as a rear guard.

They exited the church by a side door. Fresh air had never felt so good.

An SUV was parked on the curb. Heero dropped her hand long enough to open the side door and fish a set of keys out from under the floor mat. He held the door open for her and gestured for her to get in.

Relena wanted to argue, but she couldn't think of any words. Speech seemed to have evaded her. Gathering the hem of her dress, she slid into the seat, piling layers of skirt up on her lap. Heero shut the door and walked around to the driver's side.

Duo rapped on her window with a knuckle. Relena lowered the glass as Heero climbed in beside her.

"We'll take care of things here," Duo said to them. "You two should get lost for a few days. Let things die down."

Heero merely grunted, as if to say "you don't need to tell me that". Duo stepped back from the curb as Heero started the car. Relena still couldn't think of anything to say. As they pulled away from the church and onto the street, Heero tossed her a cell phone from the side door pocket.

It was a prepaid phone filled with all her of her contacts. It was exactly what she wanted.

Relena made phone calls for nearly an hour while Heero took them onto a highway leading out of the city. There were a lot of people she had to personally speak to. First, Candace Mae, who assured her that both she and her baby were well, that she had everything she needed, and not to think about calling or coming home for at least a few days as "it was a zoo". Relena wasn't sure how she felt about that, but there were other calls to make. Her public relations team exploded with fury at being kept in the dark, but took down all of her notes and directions and assured her they were handling everything. Then there was her family and friends and servants and her office and…

When she started talking to her office aide's assistant about filing paperwork, Heero took the phone from her. Relena was afraid he was going to throw it out the window, but he just put it in his shirt pocket and gave her a meaningful look.

She sat for another next twenty miles in stupefaction. They were out in the country, surrounded by trees and hills and miles of empty road. It wasn't until Heero veered off the road and pulled into the parking lot of an inn, that her mind began working again.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"We need to rest. It's been a long day and it's getting dark."

Her mind absorbed that information and made a leap, though whether it was forward or backward was hard to say. "We're married," she said.

It rolled off her tongue as almost an accusation.

Heero smiled at her.

She didn't know what else to add. She had married Heero. What had she been thinking? What was it about this man that made her so reckless? Yet she felt so comfortable. This was mad—the whole day was madness. But she didn't feel crazy.

Heero let her out of the car. She stood barefoot on the concrete parking lot, wondering if she was going to have to walk into the lobby in a bloodstained wedding gown and order a room, but it turned out that Heero already had a key card.

"You arranged this?" she said as he led her up some wooden stairs to a door that led to a corner room.

"It was arranged," Heero said elusively.

Relena took that to mean that someone else had arranged it—one of the other pilots perhaps. Relena didn't really care who it was. It was far down on her list of questions.

"What if I didn't come with you?" Relena asked him as Heero opened the door. "What if I had refused you?"

Heero didn't answer. He just pushed open the door and stepped back to let Relena enter first.

It was a suite, rustically styled, with a large living area with dark paneled floorboard and a beautiful woven rug, a bedroom with a huge four poster bed, a bathroom with a full Jacuzzi, a fully stocked kitchen, a mini bar, and a balcony overlooking a view of the mountains with seating for two. She walked around, peering at everything.

After making one lap of the arrangements, Relena returned to the entryway. Heero was just closing the door.

All of a sudden, the ground seemed to rush up to meet her. It was with a vague sense of surprise that she realized she was collapsing.

Heero caught her before she hit the floor. He lowered her slowly to the ground.

"Can you breathe?" he asked her as he knelt. His voice was calm, almost annoyingly even. His hands were undoing the buttons of her wedding dress. There were a lot of buttons. She wished he would just rip them off. She was sweating under the silk.

"I'm lightheaded."

Heero pulled the dress away from her body and over her head. Cool air hit Relena's skin. She watched Heero fling the garment away and was happy to be rid of it. It was beautiful, or had been, but it was also stained and heavy and constricting. Beneath it, she wore a white silk camisole and thigh-high tights. She might have felt self-conscious given the circumstances, but she didn't.

Heero didn't seem to notice. He was checking her vitals. He lifted her face and looked into eyes. She tried to smile at his concern. When he seemed satisfied that she was more or less all right physically, he began stroking her hair. His fingers wove through the fine strands, pulling them apart as his hands glided down her neck and shoulders. He kissed the side of her face. She closed her eyes. For no reason at all, she began to weep.

"I'm sorry," she said, pressing her forehead into the palm of her hand. "I don't know why—"

Heero pulled her close. She fell against his chest, wrapping her arms around his neck and shoulders, and let herself cry. She really didn't understand the reason. Of all the things that had happened today, why cry now? But Heero felt…so warm. He was strong and safe and kind, and so much sturdier and tougher than she was. And he was _here_.

He squeezed her tight, hugging her so that she felt his strength.

"I…I think I'm just overwhelmed," she said. "I can't believe. Did you really marry me?"

"A couple of hours ago," he whispered. "It's new for me too."

She dashed the tears from her eyelashes. "I gave up on you. I can't stand it. I don't know how you can stand me. I'm so weak."

"I love you."

"This is a mess."

"No. It _was_ a mess. Before. But you didn't do anything wrong."

"How is this going to work?" she asked him. "You. Me. A baby? How are you going to do it?"

"Somehow," he said. "I don't know how. I'll learn."

"But what are we going to do?"

"What do you _want_ to do?" he asked her.

The question was unexpected. She just blurted out her real thoughts. "I want to go back to space."

It was something she hadn't voiced. Alex had loved the earth. She had been taking a break from touring the Colonies since before she met him, but that had lasted far too long. First there was all that council business, then Heero, then the pregnancy. But now…

"Then that's what we'll do," Heero said.

"But the baby—"

"We'll bring him with us."

"You'll tour with me?"

"I would have followed you anyway. This will actually be easier."

"What about the Preventors?"

"I'm an independent contractor. I can do what I want."

Relena was quiet. She tried to imagine Heero with her on a tour. She could easily imagine him in the wings, watching out for her with a gun at his hip. It was harder to imagine him in the audience with their child in his arms. But…

Heero didn't seem concerned. "How are you feeling?" he asked her.

In truth, she didn't know. She was confused. Twenty four hours ago she had been prepared to marry another man. That seemed so stupid now. He wasn't a man she loved. Now that Heero was here, it was painfully obvious. Truly, everything all along had been for Heero.

He was touching her chin. "There's a lot to adjust to," he said. "We can take it slow—"

She put a hand behind Heero's head and pulled his face to hers. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she kissed him. He stiffened at first, but then relented and kissed her back. At first it was mild and soothing, but then his hands gripped her hair at the base of her head so hard she almost cried out. He tugged her backward until she surrendered, laying her body out beneath him, her spine against the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the bed in the other room through the open door. It was just feet away. It was too far.

She wondered what she would wear the rest of her time here. A robe maybe. Or nothing.

"We're married," she reiterated, looking Heero in the eye for confirmation. "This isn't a dream. We are a family. And we have a baby. You _did_ think about all of this? You are sure we can do this?"

He nodded. He looked tired, but not unhappy. "Somehow."

"What if I get pregnant again?" she warned him.

Silently, he cradled her head in his hands and pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes. "Then we will be four."

THE END

* * *

Yeah. It's over. Probably there are some loose ends. Probably I contradicted myself in places. But I finished the story! Yay! Now I can focus on finishing my Naruto story White Rain. And the novel. If I have more to add about the sort of life Heero and Relena would lead after being well and truly together (and raising a baby? Oh my), I'll write it in a one-shot (you can track with Author Alerts). It's possible since Frozen Teardrop (the new Gundam Wing novel) might lead to like…a revival…of 1xR. I can't leave this couple alone. It's my only OTP. :P

Hope you enjoyed this rather lengthy conclusion. Please leave a review. Or ask questions for things unanswered. I can post a follow-up to this with Q&A if there's interest - not to be mistaken for a chapter.


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